Heat
by IthildinGalad3
Summary: Heat.That was all there was. Beneath the palms of his hands, beneath the scrape of his callused thumb, beneath the soft cotton shirt that hid the broad expanse of tanned chest. Lips, not soft but slightly chapped, brushed the sensitive nape of his neck...
1. Chapter 1

**FOREWORD: Hi there! My very, very, very first fanfiction – very nervous, very tentative at having my wildest imaginings posted and subjected to critique/comment/praise/insult/condemnation. But please do R&R! Thanks! **

**(Oh and I don't own any of the characters, yada yada.)**

Heat.

That was all there was. Beneath the palms of his hands, beneath the scrape of his callused thumb, beneath the soft cotton shirt that hid the broad expanse of tanned chest.

Lips, not soft but slightly chapped, brushed the sensitive nape of his neck, puffs of warm breath through his light brown hair.

Charles Xavier, telepath and possibly the most powerful man (or rather, not man) on earth, stretched out langoriously, relishing the feeling of warmth and lust wrapped in a six-foot tall body -

And then he woke up.

"Shit," was his first instinct to blurt out.

Hi voice, slightly husky from sleep, reverberated off the walls, making him feel foolish instantly.

"There is a world to save out there and I'm in here, having dreams no sane person would have -," he cut himself off, realising it only made him even more foolish.

"Talking to myself, great," he mumbled, swinging his legs out of bed.

He stumbled a little on his jeans, which he had dumped on the floor the night before, too exhausted to care.

Kicking it away with a growl, he pulled open the doors of his not-inconsiderable closet, which was filled with crisp shirts, sharp pants and the occasional ribbed sweater. And more shirts. Lots of shirts. It seemed he wore nothing less than a suit everyday.

His almost-naked skin chilled in the cold morning air as he walked to his window, pulling his shirt (pale blue, with white pinstripes) on.

From his windows he saw that half of his XMen were already on the lawns, practising not killing or maiming each other, and the sorry-looking mannequins he had procured for them to train on.

One of such sorry mannequins no longer had an arm and lost its head entirely. The rest were quite singed.

If the plastic figures had indeed been human... Well.

Charles began to walk downstairs, to his kitchen, a fond half-smile on his face, when he heard loud snores from the room next to his.

Stopping just in front of the double doors, he closed his eyes and sensed, in his mind, the breathing, warm body sprawled across the bed, completely naked (figures).

The body was very much sleeping, mind at ease with no nightmares... Although there was a strange lingering feeling he could not quite place..oh never mind.

Charles opened his eyes, sighed, and continued to his breakfast.

It turned out to be soft-boiled eggs. Which he hated, but also waffles, which he liked, despite them being sacrilegious to his English sensibilities.

Raven, his shapeshifting adopted sister, was nursing a cup of steaming coffee. Usually normal in appearance, she clearly wasn't bothering this morning, all blue and red with a white robe to keep her body from the cold.

"Morning Charles," she husked.

"Morning, Raven." Charles looked at her closely. "You're not changed."

She looked at him, eyes bleary.

"Yeah. Need my strength." She took a sip of her coffee, and sighed.

He laughed, a small chortle.

"Bad night? That'll teach both you and Alex to break into my liqour cabinet," he teased.

She looked at him, guilt in her eyes but defiance in her chin.

"No we didn't-" she paused. "Oh, whats the point you probably read our minds anyway," she sulked.

Charles feigned indignance. "Did not. But I don't need my powers to see my entire stock of 12-year whiskeys are gone, not to mention my tequila bottles," he said, reaching out to lift her chin. "I'm just happy you did not get to my Scotch. That's for me.. and Erik," he said.

Planting a kiss on her forehead, he told her to go back to bed and sleep it off. She merely groaned and sank into her coffee again.

He poured an extremely generous amount of syrup on his now-cold waffles, when a voice at the doorway said "You are going to get fat from all that sugar, Charles."

The voice was a touch waspish, and slightly annoyed.

"Wrong side of the bed, my friend?" asked Charles, without turning around.

Cutting a slice of pure sugar and carbohydrate, he put it into his mouth and grinned to himself inside at the hiss of annoyance that came from the tall, dark-haired Erik, who as per usual, was dressed in nothing more than sweatpants.

"Fat," said the voice.

Erik Lensherr sat down heavily on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, and grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit.

The apple had seen better days.

Erik tossed it away with a grunt, and opened the fridge without moving from his chair.

He surveyed its (scanty) contents and grunted again.

Charles, without shame, picked up the plate stacked high with waffles, said "Waffles?"

With a snarl, Erik sent a metal spoon flying at Charles's head, which Charles easily stopped.

"What has gotten into you, Erik?" asked Charles not without a touch of concern. While Erik was no morning glory, he was not quite the shrew in the morning either.

"No bloody breakfast," mumbled Erik, running his fingers through his short, dark hair, pushing it up in spikes.

"I will make an omelette for you," offered Charles.

Erik shuddered.

"God no. The last time you did I thought metal was twisting in my insides," he said.

Charles looked affronted but oddly vindicated.

"See? Eggs. Horrible." He went back to his waffles as Erik sighed, and picked up one also.

Munching, Erik walked out into the sun and Charles, intending to ask him to practise moving cars later, looked up -

And his breath hitched in his chest.

The sun, bright and warm, dappled his friend's chest in yellow and gold, highlighting his dark hair an odd, but beautiful shade of bronze.

In that moment, the dark and usually tormented Erik looked like a gold Greek statue.

Charles gulped and hastily went back to his waffles as Erik, apparently unsuspecting, walked out to bark at Hank for destroying the roses. ("But I needed them for an experiment!" Hank protested)

Raven, who knew her brother inside and out, looked at him sharply.

"Charles. Are you-"

"Am I what?" Charles countered, pretending to be very interested in his waffles.

His pale skin was slightly flushed. Raven gave up. She did not want to go down that road.

"Never mind."

Charles finished his breakfast hastily and walked quickly to his room. Shutting the doors, he heaved a groan, and rubbed his temples.

He walked to the full length mirror, and took a long hard look at himself - all five foot seven inches of himself.

He took in his bright, incredibly blue eyes, his pale skin from too much studying, his tousled longish brown hair and his small, neat chin.

He took in his slight frame, more accustomed to thinking rather than fighting, and his delicate hands.

"Not quite the macho man huh," he spoke out loud. He felt a pleasant satisfaction that while he may not be made to brawl in bars, he could stop time. Literally.

Mind wandering, he wondered what Erik would think of his slim body. Or if Erik thought of him at all.

Sighing again he changed out of his blue shirt (he spilled syrup on it) and put on a white one.

He was buttoning up when his door burst open and Erik walked - more like stormed- in. Charles spun around so quickly his eyes watered.

"Erik I was just about to -"

And then he could not think (very unusual for him) because Erik's lips was upon his, his shoulders in a painful grip as Erik's hard, large hands grabbed him and pushed him against the cushioned walls, roughly.

Then his lips were being crushed, practically bruised from the hardest, most violent kiss he had ever had, and Erik's hands were unabashedly ripping off the buttons off his shirt, and roaming his chest freely.

With sheer will, Charles pulled away, his lips swollen, red, from the kiss as Erik's eyes, blazing with rage? Lust? Bore into his blue ones.

"What - what are you d-doing?" he stammered.

He couldn't breathe, much less talk, so his words came out as a whimper more than a protest.

"You've been projecting into my mind for weeks and you ask me what I'm doing?" exploded Erik, pushing Charles onto his bed with a growl.

"W-what?" Charles was now blushing furiously.

"Your thoughts, your fantasies, your images inside my head - you want this don't you?" snarled Erik, going in for the neck, biting so hard Charles yelped.

Erik continued his onslaught, ignoring Charles' protests and ripping his clothes off and dumping them to the floor.

"I've -" -rip- "had" -snick- "enough".

Erik now stared at Charles, who was open-mouthed in arousal, pleasure, fear, anger - all rolled into one heaving chest.

He was also completely naked, his arousal more evident than anything else.

"Erik, stop," pleaded Charles. "Stop."

Erik bared his teeth, like a dog. "Why? I've not been able to sleep for weeks because of your damn telepathy. Every night, I see in my head, your body beneath mine, your hands in my hair, my teeth on your flesh, me inside you -" he cut off, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"I'm going to give you what you want," he finally said in a low, threathening tone.

Charles gasped as Erik reached down, touching him in that one place that unravelled his mind control completely.

And when Erik used his mouth and tongue right there, down there, he screamed, not caring who heard and what they might think.

"Erik! No! Please!" His hands gripped Erik's short locks painfully.

"What do you mean, no?" Erik asked, anger evident in his voice even as his lips glistened, wet, slick.

"Not like this," whispered Charles. "Not like this."

Not caring, Erik pushed Charles onto his stomach, face-down on the pillows.

"No. I've wanted this - you- too long. I'm going to take you, make you mine, and then I can finally get you out of here-" he reached up and touched his forehead.

And he brought his lips down for another crushing kiss, this time his tongue slipped inside Charles open mouth.

His hands continued the work his mouth left off, and as his fingers found their way into Charles's openings, he pushed in without any warning.

Pulling away, Charles let out a cry of pain and tried to push the stronger man away.

"No!" he grunted, using his mind to try to influence Erik to stop, but in this state, his mind refused to co-operate.

His head filled with only Erik's thoughts, each filthy thought that ran through Erik's mind sending shudders through his body.

Erik, uncaring, aroused beyond measure, only wanted to bury himself deep into his best friend, to hear his name on those pink lips, to hear the moans that will escape those same lips.

And he did. He spat on his hands, coated himself, and rammed into Charles without so much as a word of comfort.

Pain like he'd never felt before coursed through Charles as Erik took him, possessed him, owned him.

Tears pooled at the corner of his eyelids as he muffled his moans into the pillows, but Erik, who wanted to hear Charles, who wanted to see Charles come undone, pulled him up by his hair, exposing white throat.

He thrust, hard, as Charles let out an agonised moan.

"No Erik, please, not so hard please-" he pleaded. "It hurts, hurts so much please stop."

Erik, finally, looking down, saw his friend broken, tearful, teeth gritted in pain, and unbidden, he felt a huge wave of remorse.

Letting out a gasp, he collapsed, still inside of Charles, and kissed his friend's eyes as if to take away the tears.

"Oh my god, Charles, I'm so sorry, so sorry," he whispered brokenly, leaving a trail of soft kisses down the trembling back.

"I just wanted you, so much, and your thoughts drove me crazy-" he started but Charles, heart-broken, stopped him.

"I'm okay," he gasped as he felt Erik still lodged within him. "I love you."

Erik, in his lust-induced haze, never expected to hear that but hear it he did.

"Charles-" he began, but Charles stopped him with a fierce kiss.

"Just - finish off," he said, teeth gritted.

Erik just stared, stared at those blue eyes, now bright with tears. He noted the trembling of his friend's lips, in fear of the pain he was about to endure.

"Oh god," Erik swore, but he needed release, so much.

So he began to move, but slower, as Charles gasped and groaned at the invasion.

"Charles, you're so hot, oh god- ohgodohgod."

Erik lost himself inside Charles, thrusting deeply, biting and leaving bloodied marks, sweat running down his back as he sought to reach his climax.

"Charles, I'm coming, I'm coming -"

Finally, with a shout, Erik came deep inside Charles, and to his surprise he felt Charles reaching his climax as well.

Breathing heavily, Erik tried not to collapse entirely onto the small, slight and shuddering body beneath him but he could not help himself.

"Charles- my love, I'm so sorry I'm so sorry," he begged.

Charles, who had not said a word, only let out a small moan of pain.

Awash with regret, Erik pulled himself out, gasping as he saw the ruby red of blood.

"Charles-"

"Go away Erik."

Erik reached out to his friend but this time, Charles's mind was his own again.

Erik felt a hard push, a strong physical blow, and sensing blood on his lips, he backed off.

"Forgive me," he pleaded, and without a word, dressed himself again, and walked out, leaving Charles sobbing quietly into his sheets.

Pain.

That was all there was in the ache of his back, the burn of the marks left by the rough sex - was it rape? Charles couldn't comprehend the word or the action. Certainly he wasn't against the idea of having Erik take him but not like that. Not like that.

He woke up feeling like his body had been invaded, violated. It was still bright out. He must have fallen asleep from crying.

Ridiculous, he berated himself. You're a man. You don't cry like a virgin who'd just had her first man.

But his heart, the pain in there, told him otherwise.

He groaned as he pulled himself out from bed, naked, stained with himself and Erik's come, and walked gingerly to the bathroom.

He needed to wash himself, and hissed as the pain of his wounds finally set in.

He let the water pound on his back, the bite marks left by Erik stinging.

Did I ask for that? Did I want Erik to have me? Yes, I suppose I did. I had been lusting after him since I met him that day, when I pulled him out of the water. When I reached into his mind and felt his pain and shared his agony.

When I saw his beauty. God, I love him so much I don't care if he ravished me.

He felt tears welling up again but he blinked them away angrily.

Oh shut it, he scolded himself. Get a grip.

He shut the showers off, feeling a little bit better, and towelled himself dry.

His face a mask of implacability, he put on a sweater - a turtleneck to hide the hickeys - and he checked himself in the mirror.

His eyes were red, his lips slightly swollen still, but nothing that will raise concern.

He went downstairs to bump into his entire group of young mutants, sitting in the hall and talking in low tones.

"Are you not supposed to be practising?" he called out, trying to keep his voice even.

They jumped, guiltily, and stared at him.

His mind heard their whispers.

What happened? Did the Prof and Erik have a fight? Why is Erik out in the forest tearing trees apart with a large chunk of metal? Why is Erik screaming as if possesed? What is going on? God the professor looks a bit beaten up- did they -

"I'm fine,"he said, a little too loudly. "Erik and I had a disagreement."

They stared at him.

He cleared his throat.

"I've worked it out but I am not feeling well," he added.

They looked slightly relieved.

"Sir, we were worried," offered the Banshee, whom they now called Red affectionately.

He looked at them, so young, and he felt so old despite his twenty-eight years.

"You neednt be. All you all need to do is get out there, master your powers and leave Erik's bad moods to me, okay?" he said, even managing a small smile.

They smiled back, guileless, and got up, peppering him with questions and filling the room, once again, with laughter and rowdiness.

He pushed his pain out of his mind and concentrated on them, spending the rest of the day to train them.

Erik was like a man possesed as he sent slivers of razor-sharp metal into trees, uprooting them or felling them and using the metal to rip chunks of wood away in a frenzy of destruction.

The noise and the sound of his own screaming made him feel even worse, but at least those sounds drove the sounds of Charles's pain from ringing in his ears.

He had hurt the one man with whom he could be himself, the man who saw the darkness in his heart and accepted it.

He had raped the one man who could have truly loved him, be it as a brother or a lover.

Charles was the only good in his life and he ruined it.

But god damn it all if only he had not been so driven by frenzied lust - god!

Erik had been tossing in his bed for weeks as Charles had, in deep sleep, accidently projected all of his fantasies, wet dreams, feelings of lust and desire into Erik every night.

He saw, as Charles dreamt, his body laying next to Charles, his lips kissing and worshipping that pale, slim body, his growling grunts as they made love.

And that morning, he had felt a sharp twinge of lust as he walked out into the sun. Felt Charles's blue eyes on his back, felt the desire from the other man.

He had barked at Hank only because he had felt it so strongly that it went straight to his loins.

When he looked up at Charles's room window later, which could be seen from the lawn, he had felt Charles. Felt his mind searching, unconsciously, for him.

And that snapped something in him. He knew he had to take Charles or be tormented by these desires for god knows how long.

And so he did. But Charles had not been prepared, not like he was.

Erik was used to women and men, he had no qualms about making love to both.

But Charles had not been ready. Not for him, not for the kind of love that men offered to other men.

Certainly not prepared for Erik to take him quite so violently, but Erik was not a man who was gentle. He was hard, and he was forceful like the metal he controlled.

With that last thought his control slipped, and one slice of metal cut through his thigh, leaving a deep gash that poured with blood almost instantly.

He roared in pain, falling to his knees, and everything around him stopped. The metal pieces fell to the ground silently, as the rest of the destroyed trees groaned, swayed and crashed.

He winced, but the pain was welcome. Struggling to stand, he tried to stem the bleeding but it was a very deep wound.

Cursing, he ripped his shirt with his teeth, and wrapped it around to stop himself from bleeding to death and walked, slowly, to the castle.

He stopped, stumbled as pain and blood loss threatened to turn his world gray.

He reached out, flatenned a piece of metal into a rough disc, and climbed onto it, using that to transport himself back to the castle.

When he reached the green, sprawling lawns he saw Charles guiding Alex in controlling the deadly lasers which the young boy could project from his body.

It wasnt a success, and Charles escaped barely, with a singed sweater.

He heard Charles laughing and it stabbed his heart.

Getting off the metal disc he limped to the sitting room, where Charles kept the medicines and first-aid kits.

(Injuries happen a lot when mutants practise, and the first aid kit was well-used and well-stocked)

He found iodine, and disinfectant, and used both, swearing with every colourful German expression he knew as the liquid stung.

Smearing iodine, he wrapped the wound with gauze and cotton and whatever that looked as if it could help, and snuck a deep gulp of Scotch straight from the bottle.

(Also kept in the same cupboard.)

"Drinking straight from the bottle now, are we?"

Erik could not look up, frozen as he recognised the voice to be Charles's.

A hand was put on his shoulder, and fingers gently traced the back of his neck.

Erik could not speak, he was too overcome.

"Erik, I - god! What happened?" cried Charles as he spied the bandages which were soaked red.

"Nothing," said Erik, but his vision was going grey at the edges.

"Shit that needs stitches, what the hell were you thinking - Erik?" The bottle of Scotch fell with a crash as Erik lost consciousness.

"Thats why you need to concentrate or you'll end up hurting yourself."

"Sir, I tend to hurt others instead."

"Well, collateral damage is serious. You, dear boy, almost deep-fried me to extinction."

Laughter pealed out in the room.

Erik opened his eyes, groaned. His legs hurt.

Charles's concerned face was in front of his, his sapphire eyes cloudy.

The room fell silent suddenly as Erik awoke.

"Erik, are you okay?" Raven asked, her now-normal face wrinkled in worry.

Erik nodded, curtly, and looked around.

They were in a crisp white hospital room, and he was on a white bed.

Charles, ever present, was looking at him with concern... And love?

The young mutants looked uncomfortable as electricity sizzled between Erik and Charles.

"Leave us for a while will you?" said Charles, his gaze unwavering.

The mutants left quietly, wondering uneasily if those two were about to fight again or... well. Other stuff.

As the young ones left, Erik finally tore his gaze away from those icy blue eyes. He couldn't face Charles.

But Charles had other ideas.

He sat on a chair beside Erik's bed, and gently, oh so gently, kissed the palm of Erik's hand.

Overcome, all Erik could do was choke back a sob.

"I'm so sorry Charles," he whispered.

Charles smiled, shook his head, and with heart-breaking purity, only said "I love you. I always will. Whether or not you hurt me."

Erik's only response was a kiss - but this time it had none of the ferocity of the first, but was careful, respectful, tentative.

Charles couldnt help it, he laughed a little against those lips.

"Now you go slowly with me? No, that hardly counts as a kiss."

He breathed hard, and said "Kiss me like you did before."

Erik needed no encouragement, and pulled Charles closer to him, roughly savouring the lingering taste of sweetness on Charles's lips.

Then he bit Charles lips, and Charles gasped, tasting the metallic tang of blood.

"Are you always so bitey?" joked Charles.

Erik answered only with a growl, and a bite on his right earlobe, before slipping a hand inside his shirt, and tugging open the first few buttons to expose a hard nipple.

"God!" swore Charles as Erik bit. Hard.

Erik continued to quite literally, eat his way down to Charles' hipbone, where only a sharp pain in his thigh and the appearance of a nurse stopped them both in their tracks.

Completely mortified, Charles hastened to button his black silk shirt, and ran his hands through his tousled hair. Erik was completely unruffled.

The nurse blushed, then mumbled something along the lines of "time to dress your wound Mr Lensherr".

Charles cleared his throat and walked out quickly, his cheeks flushed.

Erik watched him go, a bubble of laughter in his throat.

He smiled at the nurse, his teeth white and even, his eyes sparkling. She tittered and asked, shyly, "Was he your lover, Mr Lensherr? He's gorgeous," she added.

Erik nodded. "I hope so. I quite intend to make him mine," he grinned as the nurse flashed a smile.

"What's he like? When I saw him I felt as if he was looking right through me," she said, removing the dressing.

Erik shrugged. "He's very smart. Most intelligent man I ever met. Forgiving, too," he said. "And beautiful."

She slowly applied disinfectant, and checked the stitches carefully. "Well, he brought you in to the hospital, and every nurse on the floor was clamouring to get a look at him," she said with a laugh.

He gave a low chuckle. "I'd bet."

He was about to extoll Charles's beauty when he heard Raven scream, a crash and someone calling his name.

With a shriek, the nurse dropped the metal pan, as Erik bolted out of the bed, in his hospital robes, to see what had happened.

What greeted him was beyond horrifying - a demon-like mutant had Charles by the throat, a foot in the air, and Charles's legs, kicking beneath him.

A huge gash right above his right eye and a knife in his side explained why Charles did not use his powers to defend himself as Raven, Red, Alex and Hank lay unconscious on the floor.

The mutant grinned, his skin and eyes red like fire, at Erik.

Screaming out a battle cry Erik lifted every metal object in the hallway and flung it at the mutant, careful not to hit Charles.

But the demon vanished like smoke.

Erik roared. "Where are you?"

"Here." The demon appeared behind him, and lifted a metal club to hit Erik from behind but Erik, with reflexes of a cat, stopped the club.

"Metal. You would use metal to defeat me?"

Erik landed a hard punch on the mutant, who vanished again, to Erik's frustration.

A moan from two feet away alerted Erik to Charles.

He rushed to his side, but before he got there the mutant blocked his path, and kicked Erik hard, catching Erik in his chest, sending him a few feet backwards.

The mutant stood above Erik triumphant, as Erik's leg wound tore and gushed with blood.

He lifted a knife, to finish Erik off, but he never got to it.

The demon screamed, dropping the knife, cluthcing his head.

Behind him, Charles had his finger to his temple, concentrating hard on the demon.

The demon continued to scream with pain and suddenly, blood streamed from his nose, his ears and even his eyes as Charles crushed his brain from inside.

Erik watched, entranced, horrified, as the mutant gurgled, collapsed and died.

Erik looked at Charles, whose blue eyes had turned black - completely black. Blood trickled from his nose.

"Erik-" he gasped, and fainted.

Berating himself for his stupidity Erik got up, ignoring his legs, and checked on Charles. Pulse still strong, still alive. He checked the others. Only unconscious, he sighed with relief.

Doctors, nurses began to swarm into the hallway, checking for injuries.

Erik left his comrades in the good hands of the doctors, but he could not explain how the mutant's dead body was nothing but a wisp of smoke now.

"They're attacking us, and humans, directly now, the renegade mutants."

"I know. We have to stop them."

"But I won't kill them. Not again."

Charles shut his eyes with regret, and Erik took him in his arms.

"Shh. You did what you needed."

They had, since the hospital, not been able to be together since training had intensified.

Charles was pleased with the progress of the young mutants, but he worried. Everyday brought news of attacks by creatures with strange powers, and secrecy has become more paramount than ever before.

He worried that he and his small band of mutants may be overwhelmed, found out, and trapped like guinea pigs in a lab.

He hated to think of Erik trapped in a plastic cage.

A shudder went right through him and Erik felt it.

"What's wrong?"

Charles shook his head, and sighed, nuzzling against Erik's warm, broad chest.

"Nothing." He reached up to nip at Erik's lower lip.

Humming with appreciation Erik unbuttoned Charles's shirt, rveealing smooth creamy skin beneath, with a angry red scar at his side.

Erik kissed the scar, gently, but that was all that was gentle.

With a deep breath Erik yanked Charles off the bed, helping Charles to straddle him.

Confused, Charles looked at Erik with cloudy blue eyes.

"Erik, what - oh."

Erik had slipped himself inside smoothly, and gripped Charles hips hard.

Barely ready, Charles found himself rocking, moving, straddling Erik as Erik reached up, pulled him down towards his mouth, and kissed him hard.

Gasping with still unfamiliar pain, Charles winced, gritted his teeth as Erik thrust upward, harder, even as he pushed Charles down on him.

"Move, Charles, move faster," Erik groaned, longing for release.

Charles shook his head, "No I can't oh god, you're too hard - too big -" He screamed as Erik pushed him down violently.

"Erik! Gently! Please!" cried Charles.

Erik, mad with lust, pulled him down and bit his neck, using his hands to touch his lover's most sensitive regions.

Charles arched his back as Erik's talented hands stroked long and hard and fast; mouth open, gasping with pleasure as Erik took him again and again, and none too gently.

Erik thrust and thrust, before pulling out and laying Charles back on his stomach, taking him from behind, brutally hard and fast.

Charles felt a zing of pleasure as Erik found that sweet spot within him, and when he screamed out his name, Erik took the hint and thrust harder, hitting that spot just there each time.

When they both came together, all Charles could do was collapse on Erik, with Erik still inside him.

He felt Erik's warmth deep inside, and the heaving breaths and swear words dripping from his mouth told him how much Erik enjoyed it, needed it, wanted it.

"You are amazing," breathed Erik.

Charles sighed, kissing his lover gently.

"Does it still hurt?" Erik asked, concerned.

"Yes. But it feels better each time," he said.

"Good. Then I can do this -"

He slipped his hands back down and slipped his fingers into Charles's entrance.

Immediately, his lover bucked, arched back and gasped with surprise and pleasure.

"Erik please I can't keep - oh fuck!" he swore as Erik slipped three fingers inside.

"Can't what, my friend? Can't take any more of me inside you?" his breath was hot against his ears, as Erik's talented tongue licked the side of his face, then his cheeks and then into his mouth.

Charles could not speak, he could not breathe as Erik did wicked things to him, getting him so aroused all he could do was mewl and whine.

"Do you want it? Use your mind to tell me what you want," ordered Erik.

But Charles could not, his powers would not work when he was being teased, aroused, sexually like this.

"I can't, I can't," he moaned, hips lifting to ease the foreign invasion of Eric's fingers.

"Then say it to me. Say it to me now."

"Erik, I love you, love you in-inside me. Please."

With a wicked laugh Erik withdrew, shaking his head.

"No Charles. You have to show me how much you want it."

Charles groaned, his erection straining, his breath coming in gasps.

"H-how?"

"Touch yourself."

Charles looked at Erik, shocked, pupils completely blown. His blue eyes now looked almost black-blue.

"No, please Erik just come inside me," he pleaded but Erik only reached out, grabbed his hand, and put his hand where he so wanted to be touched.

"Show me."

Shuddering, Charles did just as he was told. Stroking himself, he whimpered against the sheets, mortified at Erik seeing him like this but now so filled with need he could not care less.

"Make yourself ready for me Charles."

Charles needed no further instructions. Sucking his fingers to make them wet he slipped them inside himself, screaming out Erik's name over and over.

At last, unable to take anymore, he came, hard, all over his 800 thread-count cotton sheets.

Erik, satisfied, now coated himself with lubricant, and poised just where Charles fingers vacated.

"Now, I'll give you what you need."

Thrusting deeply, Erik buried himself all the way in, ignoring the scream of pain that came from Charles lips.

He moved, long and hard, until Charles was a writhing, moaning mess, his hair in all directions, his face flushed, his mouth open.

Charles had never felt pain or pleasure quite like this. All he could feel, smell, hear, was Erik. The familiar cologne, the slight musk of his sex, the brandy they had been drinking earlier over chess.

When he felt Erik release himself, he felt bliss like he'd never felt before.

He even reached out to his lover, grabbing his throbbing manhood, and for the first time, tentatively licked the remnants of his pleasure.

Erik growled, deep in his throat as Charles did that.

"Oh my friend, please do that again-"

"This?" Charles took Erik inside his mouth completely.

Erik started, gasped, clutched at his hair painfully as Charles did things he never thought the usually reserved man would.

But then again, this was not 'usual'.

As they both lay utterly spent next to one another, all they could feel was their heartbeats, fast at first but slowing as they both fell asleep.

Charles awoke to a feeling of pure, blind panic.

Something was not right.

Something in the house was different.

He looked next to him, saw Erik sleeping soundly. He heard nothing, but still his neck prickled.

Something was watching him. Watching him and Erik sleep next to each other. Feelings of longing and desire, and of loneliness.

Charles sat up slowly, looking around in the room, which had the first lights of morning slowly creeping in from between the gaps in the curtains.

He peeled Erik's arms away, slowly, and got out of bed, naked, and padded softly to the door. Touching it with his finger tips, he concentrated on the minds in the house - his young mutants, Erik, more Erik, and then - there.

An intruder but not immediately threatening, though Charles could not be sure. Not now. Not when the world of mutants threatened to tear itself apart.

He probed further, found another mutant, but of what powers he could not tell. Male, that much was clear.

Charles, taking a big risk, spoke to the mutant.

I know you're here.

Shock ran through the mutants mind.

Are you here to hurt us? To hurt me?

How are you doing this? The mutant demanded.

I am Charles Xavier. I run this school. You are welcome here if you show me who you are.

Why should I?

Because I can help you. I an help you release whatever it is you hide beneath your clothes.

Nobody can help me. I'm a monster.

Then so are all of us. Show me where you are.

A hesitation. Charles pressed on.

Where are you hiding?

The mutant remained silent. Charles felt the mutant's defenses lower.

Show me who you are.

A rustle from behind the heavy curtains startled Charles as the form of a man, with hair so light it was almost white, eyes bluer than the sky, emerged from the curtains.

He had on a heavy coat, and a scowl.

Charles felt quite surprised he could not pinpoint the mutant even when he was standing two feet away.

"Hello," he said. The mutant scowled harder yet in the dim light Charles could make out high cheekbones, full lips, and a cascade of beautiful, slightly curled hair.

"I've made myself visible, and from the looks of it, so have you."

Charles realised with a start he was indeed, naked as the day he was born.

Blushing, he grabbed Erik's shirt, which was too long - long enough to cover his thighs.

"What do you call yourself?" asked Charles.

The mutant grimaced.

"You tell me."

Shurgging off the coat, the mutant was dressed only in a pair of tattered jeans.

Enormous white wings unfolded, gently, magnificently, from the mutant's back.

Charles gasped, and Erik woke up with a grunt.

"Charles- who are you?" Erik shot out of bed, lifted a knife from the stand, and sent it straight at the mutant.

With a flurry of white, the mutant deflected the knife easily, his wings apparently solid enough to turn metal.

"Stop!" cried Charles. "Erik, stop."

Erik reached out for him and stood in front of him protectively.

"Who are you?" he demanded harshly as Charles protested.

"Erik, I am not a helpless maiden now STOP!" he commanded, and suddenly Erik relaxed, dropped the weapons he had lifted in attack, and looked at him.

"No fair you promised-" he sunk to the floor in a heap, unable to move.

Charles grunted. The other strange mutant had not moved.

"Now where were we? Oh yes. Your name."

The mutant hesitated, having seen this seemingly fragile and slight man overpower a much larger, aggressive attacker with just his mind.

"I am called Angel," he said. "But I am no angel."

Charles smiled, gently. "Let me find out for myself, will you? Now come. Put on your coat. I'll introduce you to the rest."

Angel hesitated.

"Dont' worry," said Charles, and touched Angel on the arm.

Charles, in a split second, broke through Angel's mind defenses and reeled with what he saw.

Death, blood, a red slash as an older man, perhaps his father, tried to cut his wings off his back, ashamed of his son's apparent deformity -

Kisses, with another man, who stopped when he felt feathers and wings and cried out that he was a monster -

Rain, a blizzard, a storm that raged around him as he flew the night skies, wanting to be caught in the tornado, to end his pain -

Watching Charles and Erik, lying in bed, torn with a longing for love and an end to loneliness.

Charles felt a prickle of tears behind his eyelids and blinked hard.

Angel looked at him curiously.

"What did you do to me?"

Charles looked up, all innocence, and silently showed him into the hallway.

"Wait -" Charles walked over to Erik, kissed him lightly on the lips and Erik recovered with a grunt.

"You promised to never do that," he growled.

"Well I had to. Someone had to stop this foolishness," Charles snapped.

Erik did not have the decency to look abashed.

"I am going to show Angel around. You get dressed," Charles ordered.

Erik, suddenly realising that Professor X, leader of the X Men, was in the room, in control, could only grunt.

"I liked you better underneath me and crying out my name," he muttered as Charles pretended not to hear.

"I still own you!" Erik called out as Charles left the room, a small smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**FOREWORD: Gosh, thanks for reading everyone. I'm flattered and relieved and happy and grateful all at the same time. Got a darker twist to this chapter though, so warnings apply. It's all building up to a HUGE plot point I have in mind. (I don't own characters, none of them kthxbai)**

"Are you sure this is true?"

The urgency in Charles's voice could not be more obvious.

His usually calm face was creased with worry, his blue eyes clouded, his small, sweet mouth in a stern, straight line.

Angel could only look at his bare feet, leaving imprints on the soft carpet.

"Yes. There is a large group of renegade mutants who torture humans for the fun of it. Just. For. Fun," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles closed his eyes, probed deep inside the mind of this troubled mutant, and knew it to be true.

His mind saw bodies torn apart by a creature whose body glittered like ice.

He saw young children trapped inside a large metal cage. He saw the horror in their eyes as they watched their parents burned, mutilated, attacked, bitten, choked, thrown in the air and broken like dolls-

Charles let out a cry of anguish, startling Angel, who rose to his feet, wings unfurled, to go to his side.

Lifting a hand to stop him (for Erik was watching them both from the far corner of the room, and he could sense Eriks' annoyance, fear, worry, concern, jealousy and -goddamnit- lust, does the man ever stop -) Charles looked up, eyes bright with unshed tears.

"No, Angel, I am alright," he gasped.

He could still feel the pain, the revulsion that Angel felt as he witnessed the events.

"Angel, you need to tell me how you came to be among them," Charles asked quietly. He sat back down, annoyed to find his hands were shaking.

Angel gulped.

"I-I was foolish. A girl with insect wings on her back came to me, told me her name was Angel too and asked me to join her - we could be Angels of Death, she said. I told her I died long ago - and then I followed her."

"I dropped one of the... Humans. A girl. She was with child. From high up. I just dropped her," he whispered, his face devoid of colour, his eyes red-rimmed with self-hate.

He searched Charles's face for a sign of harsh judgement or disgust, but found none.

Erik gave a low growl, ready to rip this mutant to shreds -

"Erik, no."

Charles's tone left no doubt he meant to hear Angel out.

"Go on," Charles encouraged, and his tone was gentle.

"I had to get away after that. But nobody would let me go. They said if I left I would be hunted, my wings - " he gulped " wings torn. They would burn me on a stick, they would s-s-sodo-"

He could not continue. With a strangled cry he ran to the window and jumped out, his wings spread wide like a white cloud as he flew away.

"Angel!" Charles called out. "Come back!"

He put his fingers to his temples, trying to will him to come back, but it was futile. The mutant's mind was too distraught and Charles could not get through.

Picking up a vase Charles hurled it to the ground, watching it smash into pieces.

"Damn it all!" he swore, picking up another priceless antique.

Erik's hand, cool and comforting, stopped him.

"He'll be back. Now put that down, before you destroy everything your parents left for you, hmm?"

Charles struggled against Erik's grip on his wrists. "I'll damn well smash what I want to smash," he muttered sullenly.

Erik took the possibly one-million-dollar ancient Greek medallion from the hands of his friend- nay, lover.

His hand still on Charles's wrists, he led Charles (quite forcibly, since the telepath was struggling hard) to the large, long couch, and threw him down on it. With a grunt, Erik straddled him, pinning down his hands.

"I quite like it that you present opportunities for me to ravish you," Erik said, his voice thick. He bent his head, and nuzzled Charles' neck hungrily.

Charles laughed, he couldnt help it, and his frustrations dissipated - just a little.

So he let Erik do some wicked things with his tongue, for a while, but he needed to do what was more important - more important than a very horny Erik.

"You are incorrigible. I love you. But I have work to do," protested Charles, and pushed Erik away.

Surprised, Erik tumbled onto the floor, his fall broken by two inches of carpeting.

For a moment, his face darkened, but it cleared amost immediately. Charles, his mind occupied, was obtuse.

"Fine," Erik shrugged. "Go save the world or something. I'll just be here making metal sculptures and looking pretty."

Without another word, he strode out of the sitting-room.

"Erik, wait -" Charles shook his head. "Never mind."

He walked to the dining hall (his late parents were embarassingly proud of holding dinner parties) where his band of young students were laughing, talking, eating and throwing food into the air to be zapped into oblivion by Red's sonic screams.

"That is a waste of good food," he said loudly, sharply, as they looked guilty.

Regretting his tone almost immediately he softened.

"But at least your aim has improved Red. I enjoy not being at the end of one of your screams anymore," he joked, lamely.

The tension eased a little, and they began to pepper him with questions.

He indulged them for a while (Did you and Erik have a fight Professor? Is he going to bend stuff out of shape agan? I've got a new formula for your roses, Professor I think I could turn them blue I swear it'll be all the rage) but then he got down to business.

"I've got something to tell you, and it's not going to be easy," he said grimly.

Shocked by his unusually serious tone they stopped short.

Raven, ever the shrewd and tactless said, "We know you're sleeping with Erik. It don't bother us. So long as you dont have those violent fights again."

Charles stared at her, speechless. "That is completely- I mean- Erik and I are just friends - um," he coughed. They all stared at him, knowing looks on their faces. He blushed, and frowned.

"That's not the point. The point is, yesterday you met another one of our kind. But he comes with news I find is disturbing, and we may have to do something about it.

"There are mutants who don't want peace. There are mutants who want to use their powers to subject humans to torture, to their power."

Charles leaned forward, his fine-featured face grim.

"I don't know how to stop them. I only know we need to find as many of them who can agree with what we do here, and keep them safe and hidden until I can find a way for us to live out there openly, without fear."

Charles sighed, ran his hands in his hair.

"Someday we will be able to go out as we are. As we are born to be. But that won't happen until we can stop these violent mutants and push for peace."

Hank cleared his throat.

"Professor, how will we find them?"

The still-boyish young genius twisted the hem of his coat absently.

"We don't," a voice interrupted.

Erik stood at the doorway, his face dark, his long, lean body tense, as if ready to spring on the enemy.

"We wait for them to come to us," he said.

Charles looked at him sharply. "Erik, you know we cannot expose ourselves-"

"That snot-nosed bird found us," he said disparagingly. "And he took off too. How long do you bet it will take for the renegades to find us?"

Erik stalked the room like a panther. "They'll come to us. And we must be prepared."

Charles could see the truth in Erik's words but he was uneasy with the way the man spat them out, as if he was tired of being cooped up in the humungous castle - he saw it as a prison, Charles knew.

He also saw the tightness in his lover's jaw, the way his fists clenched, his lips..

God, those lips... Charles gave himself an internal shake.

"Erik, that would put us all at risk."

"The danger is better than us cowering here like rats!" he snarled suddenly, surprising everyone. "We can do nothing if we stay here, like cowards!"

Charles stood up, eyes ablaze.

"We are here because we are safe here! I want us to be safe! I am not about to put all of our lives in danger because you can't stand the sight of four walls!"

Erik knew what he said next would be a grave mistake, but he knew that Charles's peaceful stance would only lead to their deaths - if not now, then later.

Better he died in fighting for something he believed in, than using words and persuasion to try to turn the tides of what can only be inevitable.

"You are a coward," he hissed, towering over Charles. "You hide here believing in your peace, your intellect, your flag-waving. I'm here to tell you it won't work!"

He pushed Charles into the wall, frightening the wits out of the younger ones.

"Wake up!" he screamed. "You either start to fight or you stay here and wait for your death!"

Charles could only stare, his face bone-white with shock. Oh he knew, how he knew that Erik was right in so many ways. But he would not give up. He cannot. He could not.

With a strangled cry he lashed out at Erik with his mind, causing Erik to reel back, stumbling over the carpets.

"Then go! Go and fight!" he screamed back. "Kill as many of our own kind as you want to!"

"Fight, and get yourself killed! There are hundreds of them and less than ten of us! Go ahead, be a killer, kill like how Shaw killed your mother -"

Then Erik exploded.

With a roar, he wrenched the metal grills from the windows and sent it straight at Charles, trapping him against the wall.

Rubble fell from the ceiling, glass from the window panes shattered.

All the students rushed forward to protect their profesor, but Charles stopped them.

"NO!" With one free hand he froze them. Their eyes stared at him, shocked.

"This is between me and Erik."

"Damn right it is," Erik hissed. Watching his slender lover struggle against the bonds, his eyes narrowed.

"Listen to me, Charles. I've been in prison before. Whether it is an old English castle or a cellblock of brick, it is still a prison," he said, slowly, menacingly.

Charles shook his head. "No, my love. The only prison is your own past."

Erik's eyes widened.

"What do you know about the past?" he demanded. "You grew up in all this!"

"A prison is still a prison... Even if it is a castle," choked Charles, echoing his lovers' words even as the metal frame around his neck tightened like a noose.

Erik bared his teeth, tightened the metal even more. Charles felt his control over the young mutants wavering. He could see their thoughts, they were ready to do anything to get to him, to get Erik away.

"Erik. Please. You're hurting me," he gasped. "And - I think- Raven might hurt you something q-quite awful if I let go of her."

Erik gave nary a glance to the young ones. He knew he could overpower them easily.

Raven, with her fashionable metal chain belt.

Hank, with his stainless steel necklace.

Alex with the machine Hank created for him to control his powers.

Red, well, he had some piercings in areas which would hurt, a lot, if they were pulled out.

"Send the kids away, Charles," he ordered.

"I can't."

"Yes you can. Use your powers to tell them to go away, to leave the room and go back to theirs and sleep."

Charles felt tears prickling his eyes. He couldn't breathe.

But he did it. He told them to go away. He pushed at their wills with all his might, and they left.

Then it was him, and Erik, alone in the room.

He really, really couldn't breathe.

"Erik, I can't breathe," he wheezed.

The bonds loosened a fraction. Erik was still breathing hard, his body inches away.

"Erik. Please. I can't breathe!" pleaded Charles.

A pause, then the metal bonds fell away, crumpled in a mutilated heap.

Charles took a deep breath, let out a gasp of relief as he rubbed his neck, which had an angry red mark right across it.

Erik stared at him, and without warning, grabbed him by the neck with one hand and pinning him down on the floor with another.

Fear like he had never experienced before gripped the telepath. He thrashed against Erik, who gripped his neck hard enough to hurt and limit his air supply, but not enough to choke him to death.

But somewhere inside Erik, a darkness had sprung. All he knew was that he wanted this man to hurt like he hurt, to be helpless like he was.

To know that the violence that exists in the world is real, to pull the blinds of peace and non-confrontation from the blue eyes.

He wanted Charles to know, that death, blood, terror - were all real, and inevitable.

Ignoring the choking gasps from Charles, he unbuttoned his jeans, and pushed them down.

He undid Charles's brown khakis next, pulling it off, revealing pale, slender legs.

Still, he kept his grip as Charles stopped thrashing and could only stare with terrified eyes at him.

He ignored the stabbing pains in his forehead as Charles tried, desperately, to use his powers.

He lifted Charles's hips higher, and drove himself in.

Charles had never thought anything could hurt him so much. While he had now gotten used to Erik, nothing prepared him for this.

Unable to cry out, he could only choke, his back arched as his body spasmed with pain.

Erik felt tears run down his face as he knew what he was doing was abhorrent, cruel, unforgiveable.

But how else would he be able to warn Charles of his foolishness? How else would he be able to drive his point across- to get Charles to fight, to be ready to take lives?

His whole life all he has seen is peace, he knows not of the cruelties of the world.

But I know. I know how cruel the world can be.

He thrust, deep, even as he cried in heaving sobs.

"This is violence, Charles! This is how much pain there is in this world!" he shouted even as he continued to drive himself in deeper.

His hands were no longer on Charles throat, they were on the elfin face, in the light brown hair. His lips were everywhere, as if trying to seek forgiveness.

Charles could no longer fight but he did not want to.

He knew all that Erik felt. But by god, he wished he didn't.

When Erik finally spent himself, Charles rolled over on his side, numb with shock and pain.

Erik put his arms around Charles' body and Charles let him.

In that one moment he wanted to hate the dark-haired mutant, to push him away, to never look at that face again.

But he couldn't.

"Charles. Oh god. Charles," whispered Erik, kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his lips.

Something broke inside Charles, and he met Erik's lips fiercely.

His tongue slipped inside Erik's mouth, met and tangled, until a moan escaped those lips.

Moving downwards, he kissed Erik's neck, nibbled at his collarbone, gently grazed a nipple as Erik took a sharp, desperate breath.

He continued his descent, finally reaching the desired destination, and took his lover in his mouth.

Erik could only cry out his name over and over as he gave pleasure.

Then suddenly it was a frenzy of movement, he found himself on his stomach, his face in the soft, fuzzy carpeting as Erik took him again, slower this time.

Groaning in unison, flesh meeting flesh, the two men gave and took.

Charles did not know why, but he needed Erik. He needed Erik to control him, to dominate him, to make him feel pain and love and desire and desperation.

He would not feel alive otherwise.

Grunting, he pushed himself against Erik's manhood, trying to get Erik inside him as deeply as possible, eliciting a groan from Erik that seemed to come from the very core of him.

"Charles god, please don't do that I wont be able to stop myself-"

"Inside me, Erik, please, come inside me."

With a loud cry, Erik did, and so did Charles, though quietly.

Exhausted, Erik collapsed on Charles, his body a mass of heat, muscle, sinew and pure sex.

Breaths slowed, hearts stopped pounding.

Charles, mind foggy with everything, close his eyes and slept, only vaguely aware that he had been lifted and carried to his room.

He awoke on his own bed with Erik on him, head resting on his chest, one arm across his stomach.

Charles looked at Erik's face, so peaceful in sleep. If only he could find the same while he is awake, thought Charles with a pang.

He stroked the short, dark hair absently, relishing in the gentle morning sun, and the sight of his lover.

His other hand stroked Erik's muscular, well-defined arms.

He winced when he spied a bruise on his own hands where Erik had gripped.

If he continues like this I will need to see the doctor. And if the doctor asks why the bruises, it will be such fun to say "Oh my lover likes it rough. Really rough. Like, life-threatening rough."

Charles almost laughed, but he didnt want to wake Erik.

He needn't have bothered though, Erik's eyes soon fluttered open.

"What time is it?"

"Late. And I think the young ones know what we did last night."

"Let them."

Erik gently kissed Charles, just right above the heart. He circled a nipple and Charles gasped, pushing his head away.

"You never stop!" he protested.

Erik laughed, a low rumbling laugh.

"No, I don't." He reached his hands downwards.

"Erik.." Charles said warningly. Erik ignored him, and began to slowly, gently, and passionately make love to him - as if making up for the violence the night before.

Charles savoured his lover's unexpected tenderness, and they both climaxed slowly, luxuriously, and in each others arms.

When they both finally got out of bed it was past noon, and the mood was sombre elsewhere in the house.

Nobody met Charles's eyes as he instructed them, prepared them, taught them.

Erik was away, on the grounds, possibly to avoid the discomfort.

The students saw the bruises on Charles' neck (goddamn turtlenecks were so hot) but pretended not to notice.

It was only two days after Angel left that he came back, his wings torn, his face bloodied, beaten and tortured to within an inch of his life.

And the day after that, they were attacked.


	3. Chapter 3

**FOREWORD: Encouraged by the reviews, this writer decided to skip lunch to hammer away at her laptop to write this chapter. She is now currently a little bit crazy and possibly will start to chew her fingernails. There will be violence and heartbreak. Also, she takes huge liberties with Charles's past. You have been warned.**

**(I can no haz rightz over the hawt men in teh storeh)**

**(Thanks for input, Little Draca – embarrassed to admit I have ****no idea**** why my formatting doesn't work when I upload! * noob alert*. But all else is noted, and much much appreciated.)**

Charles never heard them, felt them or sensed them as they came, all forty of them. They had another telepath with them, who blocked them from his sight. Or it could be that he had been in bed with Erik, once again helpless at the ministrations of his lover. But whatever it was, he never stopped blaming himself.

They came in the night, three of them materializing within the walls, where only by sheer luck they materialized inside the halls and not in the rooms where his young students slept. If luck had not smiled on them they would have been lost, killed in their sleep, defenseless.

It was by another stroke of great luck that the ever-alert Erik had managed to defeat and subdue the four mutants that appeared in his own room, where Erik and he were entwined on the bed.

When six more burst through his doors, he had been ready, using his mind to control them as Erik pinned them down.

Immediately, Charles had sent out a warning into the minds of his students, who awoke in a flash, their training evident as they prepared to fight. Raven, ingeniously, turned into her assailant and turned the tables on him before going to help her fellow XMen.

All through the castle, chaos reigned as seven mutants tried to defeat forty. Angel, who had arrived at their doorstep wounded badly, had recovered well (his powers entailed healing) and disposed of two attackers quickly.

All the XMen gathered in the great hall within a few minutes, fighting as many as they could along the way, led by Charles and Erik, and finally turned to face the remaining mutants. The attackers had cornered them, but they were not defeated.

Charles looked at all of them in turned, trying to sense which of these was the telepath. He found her, her body glittering like diamonds, her eyes colder than ice.

"What do you want?" demanded Charles harshly as the mutants held back, looking to the diamond-like mutant as their leader.

She circled them, enjoying the sight of Erik's bare chest. Erik only glared at her as she reached out towards him. Pouting, she stepped back, as if denied a toy.

"We heard you were good guys. Good guys who wanted to stop us from having loads and loads of fun," she purred.

Charles growled. "Fun? Is that what it is to you? Murder is fun to you? Are you all _crazy_?"He glared at all the mutants. "You have no idea what you are doing to yourselves. You are courting open war!" he said, his voice low.

Their leader tittered. "Open war? So dramatic, Charles Xavier. So scary. There won't be war if we kill ALL of them." She threw her head back and began to laugh in earnest.

Charles could only stare at her, disgusted. Silently, he projected into the minds of his students to be prepared to fight, not kill. _Subdue them if you can,_ he said to them. _Do not kill._

She cocked her head to one side. Her eyes roamed Charles's lithe frame, she locked her gaze to his, and probed into his mind. Charles instantly resisted. He was more powerful, far more powerful, and she soon gave up.

"Never mind. I would have liked to watch, see what prim and proper Professor gets up to in the sheets… but I think I'm getting bored." She gestured to her band of merry mutants.

"Kill them."

Then hell broke loose as each XMen sought to defend themselves. Screaming, cries of pain, groans of effort pierced the air.

Erik roared, grabbed Charles by the shoulders and flung him out of harms' way as a mutant with fire in his hands tossed a great ball of flames straight at Charles.

It was pandemonium.

Raven struggled to fight off three mutants at once, who were using telekinesis to throw things at her. Her natural agility and strength saved her too many times to count, until she transformed into their leader and confused them enough to knock them unconscious.

Red, who was not having an easy time of anything since he could not unleash his powers completely without killing his own friends, was fighting side by side with Alex, who had finally got his powers under control and was trying not to kill anyone, aiming his lasers to stun, rather than maim.

Hank was a flurry of feet, hands, punches, kicks, flips as he fought off four of them. By now there was a trickle of blood running down his forehead, and his lips were split. He was nearly overpowered, but Angel intervened, and saved him.

All the while, their leader laughed, even as Charles fought her mind. She turned into diamond, and he was rebuffed. He tried to paralyse her with his mind then but she laughed at him, knowing full well his powers did not work while she was in this form. She toyed with him then, hitting him with her diamond-hard fists. Charles, more accustomed to fighting with his mind than his fists, was helpless.

Erik was a man possessed, ripping metal from the walls, manipulating the metal the mutants had on them to choke them, subdue them, pin them down. He noticed Charles in trouble and sought to reach his lover, to save him, but another mutant, with green skin and a face like a – frog, goddamit it all – grinned and blocked his path, spitting acid at him.

He tossed a scrap of metal in front of his face, and the acid ate the metal with an obscene sizzle. Bodily tackling the green mutant, he managed to ram his way through to Charles, who was hanging by a thread.

Charles's face was bloodied by punches that would have killed any man – not for its force, but by the fact the fists were made of diamonds – cutting, slicing, breaking bones.

Erik managed to wrench her off Charles, but could not save Charles from the frog-like mutant who spat acid straight at Charles. It missed his face and neck, by mere inches, landing on Charles shoulders and chest.

Then it was as if time had stood still.

Charles screamed, a long keen of pain as he clawed at his chest, his back against the wall as the acid seared his flesh. The pain set fire to his mind, pierced through his control over his powers, and suddenly the very air seemed to warp.

A pause, an agonizing second, and then everything exploded.

The attacking mutants fell to their knees. They screamed in unison as their brains threatened to burst out of their skulls. Blood poured from their eyes, from the noses, from their ears. After what seemed like an eternity – though it was barely ten seconds – all the attacking mutants, save their leader, had died, skulls cracked and brains obliterated.

Terrified, the XMen looked at Charles, whose eyes had again turned black as he stood there, as if paralysed. His fists were clenched at his sides, his right shoulder a mass of red, bloody flesh. Blood dripped from his nose.

"Charles!" Erik's agonized shout broke everyone out from their shock.

Charles head turned to Erik, and his mouth opened, as if trying to say something. Then he crumpled, but Erik was there, grabbing him just before he hit the ground.

The leader of the (now dead) attackers only stood there, stunned. She turned to flee but found Raven blocking her path. "No you don't!" With a punch (she turned her fists, ironically, to diamonds also), Raven knocked her out.

She then strode over to Erik, and hauled him away from Charles violently, her anger giving her strength.

"YOU stay away from him!" she spat at Erik, who looked stunned. "Don't go near him! He told us not to do anything to you, no matter _what, _but I just can't follow his orders anymore!"

She reached out an arm and slapped Erik hard, hard enough to split his lip. Erik, who would have killed her if she had been anyone else, just stared at her, his jaw slack.

Red, Hank and Alex stood protectively over Charles, as Angel lifted him gently in his arms.

"He told us he _loved _you. He told us not to hurt you, because you couldn't _help _yourself," snarled Raven, and she pushed him hard enough to knock him to the floor. "He said he was fine, he kept saying how he wanted to help you and that if we fight you, he would never forgive us. He said you'd never hurt him intentionally. But you did hurt him, you _bastard. You absolute bastard," _she rambled, breathing hard. "So you stay away from him."

Alex growled as Erik tried to get up. "Yeah Erik. Stay away from the Professor. Or we'll kill you, no matter what the professor says." Hank and Red nodded their agreement.

Erik didn't know whether to cry, to laugh, or to kill them all with his bare hands. Lord knows he could have. But they didn't understand. They didn't understand that Charles needed him, just as much as he needed Charles. They didn't understand what Charles would do to feel alive. They didn't understand that he needed Erik to be violent, needed Erik to hurt him.

They didn't understand the complexity in the love that existed between the two powerful men. And they never will.

"We're taking him to the hospital. If you knew what was good for you, you'd be gone by the time we come back," Raven said fiercely. "Come near him again and we will end you."

Erik could only watch as they left into the night with Charles. He didn't know what to think, what to feel, or what to do. He saw the bodies of the mutants around him, smelt the stench of death in the air. The diamond-skinned mutant, now back to flesh, was out cold.

He stood over her, and felt anger, revulsion and rage rise up inside him. Without thinking, without even pausing, he rammed a pointed metal bar straight through her heart, killing her instantly.

Suddenly realizing what he had done, he sank to his knees, and wept bitterly. He wept for himself, for the dark parts inside him that would never be healed.

But most of all he wept for Charles, for the darkness inside him had finally tainted the light inside Charles.


	4. Chapter 4

**FOREWORD: Whoa I definitely need to write a chapter to restore Erik's reputation… if it's not already too late! Here, I take more liberties with Charles's past and also a plot-twist! Aha! Keep the reviews coming and THANK YOU for reading! **

**(I only own the words here but the XMen characters are, sadly, not mine. Still. Garnit. Man, would I love to get a bite of James MacAvoy… *trails off*)**

The room was dark, the sheets cool against his bare back, his naked legs. Erik's nose buried in his hair, inhaling the citrus-scent of his shampoo. And he talked, those many nights he lay with Erik, feeling bruised by Erik's rough hands but also safe – safe enough to tell his lover, things he never told a soul, not even Raven.

Those nights the words tumbled out, or sometimes, when his voice felt too small, he would just project his words into Erik's mind.

_Mom once told me she had an evil inside her, like a small black spot, which made her get mad at Dad. She would spit at him and lash out at him but each and everytime Dad would only hold her, rub her back as she screamed obscenities at him._

_I felt everything that Dad felt, the knowledge that she couldn't help herself, the bad stuff inside her comes up once in a while. And I wanted to cry because Dad would cry, and I would hear him tell himself that he loved Mom, loved her and will never leave her. _

Those nights, Erik's hands were placed just above his heart, his lips gently nuzzling his earlobes, his hard body pressed against Charles's. Those nights Erik loved him, held him, cherished him.

_I grew up wanting to be like my Dad, who took everyone for their flaws, their bad 'stuff', and tried to heal them. He died one day trying to save a man from drowning. He couldn't swim, but he tried anyway. Because trying is all that mattered…_

But those nights were gone.

Charles woke up suddenly, feeling like he had been hit by a truck. He saw his right shoulder bandaged stiffly, and for one moment, was convinced that yes, he was hit by a truck. Though how he ended up in the path of truck, since he did not drive and did not own a car, owned a _jet _but not a car…

Until the memories flooded back and Raven's face came into his line of sight. His shoulders felt numb, and his chest felt like someone ripped his flesh there into shreds – OH. _Someone kinda did_…

He groaned.

"Charles, are you okay?" her voice was half-tearful. "We're so sorry."

Charles blinked rapidly, croaked "No, why, you don't have to be sorry." He tried to turn his neck, found that it hurt too much, and tried to see what Erik was up to, but Erik wasn't there.

"Where's Erik? Is he okay? Did he get hurt?" he asked, urgently. Raven flushed, her stance instantly defiant.

"We told him to stay away," she huffed, as the rest murmured their agreement. "I hit him, because he deserved it. That bastard."

Charles could only curse his own stupidity. "Raven, it is imperative you find Erik," he urged. "He is… unstable on his own."

"Damn straight he's unstable!" cried Raven. "He attacked you, we saw him try to kill you!" She took his good hand in hers. "Please Charles, we don't need him around. He isn't good for you." She was practically begging him.

Charles looked away, his blue eyes clouded with secrets he had kept hidden. His mouth set itself into a firm line, his jaw tightened, and Raven knew from long experience that when her brother clammed up like that, it was useless to try to talk sense into him_. For a man so intelligent, he could be so boorishly stubborn_, she thought, frustrated.

"I know you think I'm being… unreasonable. But Erik needs me- Us. He needs us. We need him. His powers are formidable and none of us are yet as controlled as he is with his powers," he said, still not looking at her. Raven also knew him well enough to know when he was lying to her.

"Fine," she conceded, not believing him for a second. She used her other secret weapon – cajoling. "Charles, I worry about you. Ever since you and Erik, uh, became a _thing _you've been different. Not bad-different, just different. You're pre-occupied all the time," she wheedled. Her tone turned sad on cue. "I'm beginning to think you don't care about us anymore."

The rest of the XMen marveled at her, realizing how cleverly she played her cards. Charles was too soft-hearted, and loved Raven too much to bear having her think less of him. Or for his students to feel slighted by him either.

He looked up at her, apologetic almost instantaneously. "Oh Raven, I am so sorry. It's just –,"he paused, and looked guilty. "I'm sorry," he apologised to them all. Each of them made haste to reassure him they still cared for him, that they didn't blame him.

Charles was not in the least bit fooled by them. Just because he promised never to read their minds didn't mean he didn't know each and every one of his students by heart. But he knew they needed him strong, and Erik… Erik. Erik who made him feel weak but strong, hurt but comforted…

But he knew, for now, he had to find another way to get to Erik.

Because if he didn't, Erik could very well be the next leader of the renegade mutants.

XXX

Sitting in the cold, dark basement of some seedy bar, Erik let the incessant pounding of music block out the noise in his head. He had a bottle of tequila in his hands, it was half-empty. Beneath him, at his feet, two more empty bottles were strewn.

He fully intended to try to drink himself to death, but he knew it wouldn't work. Alcohol, like drugs, did not affect him like it would normal people. He could drink himself through a 24-hour liquor store and would only emerge tipsy, perhaps a little giggly, singing German drinking songs rather loudly. Charles, however, was devastated by alcohol. Anything more than a glass of Scotch would have him slurring, rambling, and making extremely lewd jokes about several of Erik's finest body parts. Which was _every _body part.

God, _Charles_. Goddamn Charles Xavier with his baby blues and his slow, melting smile.

He wanted Charles so badly it actually hurt. He wanted to bury his face in Charles's silky smooth hair, and just take in that maddeningly arousing smell of his goddamned shampoo. He wanted to bite the soft skin, which always tasted like butterscotch to him.

But when he was with Charles he became someone, some_thing_ else. He became the crass and rough lover, the dominant partner, the one who whispered filthy things and took his pleasure with no qualms. And yet each and every time he got rougher and harder, Charles let him – and would later forgive him and kiss away his tears as he apologised, over and over. It was a pattern. A vicious cycle of violence then love, of rape then consent. His brain felt like it would explode with how twisted and _sick _he was. Erik groaned into the palms of his hand, wishing he could stab himself in the eyes or something stupid like that.

_I wouldn't recommend that. _

An amused voice. It sounded familiar. It sounded like –

"Charles!" he blurted out in surprise. Relief and shame flooded through him. "Charles where are you?"

_I am in a hospital. Strange, I've been in and out of these white walls quite a few times now but still I cannot get used to this smell of sickness and the thoughts of death in this place. God, I hate hospitals._

"Charles, I'm sorry," he said, his voice echoing.

_I know. I know. The kids won't forgive you, however. I think Alex might want to blast you into smithereens. _Even in his head, Charles voice was amused.

"How can you even – why aren't you – how can you be so calm?" Erik agonized.

_I have to be. _

Erik felt a pang of regret as he heard the momentary vulnerability in his lovers' voice. "What would you have me do?" he asked.

_I need you to come to me. Now. I will show you where I am and I need you to take me away from here. Then the two of us will find the renegades, and see if we can't convince them to abandon their path of destruction. But I need you with me. The kids aren't ready. _

Erik was stunned. This was not something Charles would normally do. Charles and his incessant talk of peace, of understanding, of using their powers for good… "Charles, this could be suicide."

_I know. But what good can we do if we do not try to make them see sense?_

Erik nodded, to himself. "Okay." He got up, swigged the remaining tequila, and closed his eyes. In his head, he saw a white-washed building, a perfectly even cross over the front doors, words to tell him how to go there, and how to get in.

_Find me, Erik. I want you._

"I'm coming, Charles."

XXXX

Far away, somebody smiled.

It was not a nice smile. It was the smile of a cat who has caught a mouse, and fully intended to play with it before eating it. It was the smile of one who had trapped a fly in its web.

The smile grew broader as he saw blue eyes widened in shock, horror and desperation. The smile practically became a grin when the pale, naked body struggled against his bonds, and a muffled scream of pain was heard when sparks flew from the metal visor that covered a beautiful elfin face.

The smile was ecstatic when tears filled the blue eyes, rolling down a flushed and bruised cheek. The thin, tall man whose smile was now threatening to crack his face open, laughed as he saw exactly four young mutants trapped like pigs in a pen behind a wall of glass, unconscious or rendered completely immobile.

The laugh was equally as unpleasant. Thin fingers stroked levers and buttons which at a press, could inflict pain of quite creative and varying means. Walking over to the naked body, he stroked a finger down the smooth chest, appreciating the beads of fear-sweat that glistened on it. The man put his lips to the ears of his prisoner.

"Don't worry, my sweet. Erik's coming."


	5. Chapter 5

**FOREWORD: In which I take even huger liberties with time/space continuum and cross several timelines and characters in one huge… something. Sorry for the late posting, and THANK YOU THANK YOU ALL for reading. R&R please!**

**(I do not own the characters of XMen. Whichever movie/storyarc/comic timeline it may be in. However, that James MacAvoy, oh yes, he is quite delicious…)**

_Everything is wrong, everything is lost._

Despair threatened to crush Charles as he looked at the thin, sallow man that stroked him, like a toy, through bleary eyes.

He felt bile rise in his throat as the man licked him, tasting sweat and relishing in it when Charles tried to squirm away. The shackles held him tight, held him fast to the centre of the room, where he was spread eagled, standing up.

He knew using his powers would only cause pain as surges of low voltage electricity pierced his skin and sent him thrashing.

_This is beginning to be a pattern with me. Getting caught, putting those I love in danger... I have to get stronger, I have to start protecting the people I'm responsible for. I cannot cave in. I must not._

"What's going on in that big brain of yours professor?" teased the thin man. His voice had a metallic rasp to it, as if it hadn't been used in a long time. "Thinking of how hot I'm making you?"

Charles would roll his eyes if he were able to move his face. He huffed what was unmistakably a muffled laugh.

The man paused his journey down Cahrles's chest and glared at him.

"Isn't this how you usually like it? Rough? Trapped and bonded like a prisoner?" he demanded. "Or is it something about Erik... I must admit. He is quite a good-looking man."

Charles would sneer, but ah, of course, he couldn't. He wished he could. He would have made remarks about this thin man's lack of endowment in certain areas, perhaps toss in a joke or two about his terrible lovemaking skills.

He needn't have to had said it, though, the thin man seemed to know it.

Clearly angered, the man produced a knife out of thin air. Putting it against Charles's right thigh, he made an incision, breaking skin but not hard enough to cut through flesh.

"Pain. I heard that's what gets you off," breathed the thin man. His hands reached down to his pants. "Truth be told inflicting pain gets me off."

The knife moved upward, closer to his centre. "What if I threatened to hurt you right here if you didn't let me take you." It wasn't a question at all.

Charles gulped. He tried not to flinch, but as the knife nicked dangerously close to his centre his body spasmed in self-preservation.

The smirk turned into a grin. "Scared are we? Well don't worry. I know this is what you like. My friend here told me exactly what you like to do in bed."

He gestured to a man hiding in a corner, all that is visible of him two eyes of different colour. The eyes were the creepiest, coldest Charles had ever seen, but he couldn't get a read on this new threat. Not when there was a sharp knife cutting him everywhere, in small painful nicks.

His slender chest heaved, his blue eyes bright with fear. The man continued to touch him in places only Erik had ever touched.

"Mmmm..." the man hummed. "Now I know why Erik, that sly old dog, likes you so much. He and I go way back, did you know? I pretty much brought him up to be who he is today."

Charles could not conceal his shock. It's _him_. _The dark spot inside Erik._

"Yes it's _me_!" the man laughed uproariously. "Truth be told I always knew Erik was twisted like that. He always did have an eye for the beautiful things in life. And my god, you are beautiful."

The man circled Charles like a shark circling its prey. He looked with appreciation at Charles's firm buttocks, his quivering thighs, the slim cut of muscle and sinew of his body.

"Yes, Erik did like nice things. Liked to break nice things too. Did I tell you he killed his mother? Oh yes."

He ran a sharp fingernail down Charles's thighs. He was delighted when Charles finally winced.

The man Shaw continued to let his fingers roam freely, but with a cold lust, as if he were merely surveying a fine horse, or choosing a thoroughbred mare. There was no heat in the touch, only cold appraisal. Everything was merely a slab if meat on which he could take his pleasure with.

Charles felt his skin crawl as Shaw licked his inner thigh, as is tasting him. He seemed to have liked what he tasted because it wasn't long before he moved behind Charles and began to use his tongue where Erik had never used.

Screaming muffled obscenities, Charles struggled against the chains that held him, trying to pull himself away from Shaw. Shaw only laughed harder, and continued his despicable assault on Charles' body. Charles was horrified to discover that his body was reacting to Shaw, who noticed immediately, and began to stroke him hard and fast.

When he was satisfied that Charles was well and truly aroused, he stood behind Charles and pushed, just a little, the tip of himself into Charles.

_Imagine it's Erik. Imagine it's Erik. Oh god, god no, just imagine it's Erik, _Charles thought desperately.

But he couldn't. He couldn't possibly imagine the laughably soft hands, the cold, _slimy _touch to be Erik's hot touch, his fevered kisses, his violent but endlessly passionate hands. Charles sobbed against the mask that covered his face, as he felt an invasion inside him.

Shaw, hearing the sob, only laughed. He laughed as he drove himself into Charles. He laughed as Charles screamed against the mask. He laughed all the harder when one of the younger mutants, the one with the red hair, woke up and cried out when he saw Charles like that.

When he was finished, he lifted the metal mask off the pale face, and grabbing Charles, brought Charles's face to his lips in a hard kiss, one that was almost like a blow.

Charles stared at the man with such hate it would have terrified an ordinary man. Shaw, however, relished the look. Even as Charles gathered what strength was left and spat, hard, at his face, he only grinned. Wiping the spit off serenely, he stroked Charles's face, and Charles wrenched away.

"Since you've been so good, I'm going to let you watch. I'm going to let you watch me kill your lover-boy."

Charles eyes flew open. On the small TV screen at the corner of the room, he saw a black-and-white video of Erik, who had just walked into what was unmistakably an ambush.

When he finally broke down, and began to scream out Erik's name over and over, he didn't even notice that the voice was his.

XXXX

The moment he walked towards the building he knew something was wrong. It was dingy and rundown, not like any hospital he'd ever known. He saw the even-armed cross, the whitewashed walls, and the dirty glass double doors. He was certain this was the place Charles had shown him in his mind.

He tensed just as the doorway, listening inside for any suspicious movement. He heard nothing, which was of course, even _more _suspicious. He felt for metal inside the building. There was too little of the element inside for his liking, but in a pinch, it will do.

Carefully, he pushed open the doors, and walked inside. He saw the interior that was just like a hospital, only empty. There were cupboards with charts at one corner of the wall, chairs lined up in the waiting room, a bunch of clipboards on the white counter. Doors into rooms with numbers on them. A stretcher which was forlorn, left in the middle of the walkways.

Erik frowned. Maybe this is some sort of mutant-only underground hospital. But his senses, trained from years of hiding and hunting and survival, told him that something was wrong.

He was proven quite right when a beam of red hot laser missed him by mere inches, and a punch swung at him. Ducking smoothly, Erik avoided one attack, but at least ten more were headed his way. He saw mutants with deformities, mutants without – but all were intent on taking him out.

Pulling with all his might every metal appliance in the room he was horrified to discover that the room suddenly wobbled, disappeared, as the reality of where he was, was revealed to him.

A room of no bigger than 15 feet by 15 feet, made entirely of brick and stone.

Overcome by surprise he could not dodge the heavy punch that came his way, nearly breaking his jaw. A hand that was transformed into a brick was swing at him, as he was attacked from behind by a creature with claws.

He roared with pain as the claws found flesh, ripping chunks of his skin and flesh off his back in a horrifying spray of blood. He fell to his knees as another mutant encased his hands and legs in some kind of hardened spit. Everywhere he felt blows landing on his face and his head.

Overpowered, outnumbered, Erik could only cry out with fear – not for himself, but for Charles. As he lost consciousness, his only thought was that he had failed Charles.

XXXXX

Sebastian Shaw watched with pleasure as Charles thrashed, chains rattling, his mouth wide open in a grimace, crying out for Erik. He watched as Charles slumped weakly against the bonds, crying in heaving sobs as he watched Erik fall, surrounded. He did nothing as Shaw lifted his chin, licked his tears, and pronounced them the sweetest liquid he ever tasted.

His heart could have stopped beating, it wouldn't have mattered. Erik could very well be dead, and if he were, Charles knew he himself too, would be lost.

"There there. Erik is not dead. Only merely unconscious. He is being brought here to you as we speak!" said Shaw, his voice rising excitedly. "In fact, I expect quite a reunion to take place. Sure to be quite touching."

Charles looked at Shaw and knew that the man was mad, quite mad.

"Erik will kill you. When he gets here," Charles croaked. "He will. You've got all this metal around me. Erik will just rip them apart."

Shaw practically giggled. "You think so little of my intellect? Oh _professor, _" he said mockingly. "You're not the only smart one here, so don't play mind tricks with me. My friend Jason here, he knows about mind tricks. More so than you, Professor," sneered Shaw.

The mutant with the mismatched eyes did not say a word. Only a small hiss escaped the lips, and the fraction of a nod in the darkest corner of the room. Shaw clapped his hands, once, and the sound reverberated around the room obscenely.

"Right! My mutants have brought you lover here! It's time to play!"

The door opened, and Erik was dragged in. Blood flecked his lips, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his clothes torn and bloody. Charles gasped, his heart pierced through with pain at seeing Erik like that.

"ERIK!" he cried out. "ERIK WAKE UP!"

Shaw slapped Charles, hard, across the face, so hard Charles lips split.

"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!" Shaw screamed. "Jason! Remember what I told you! Now!"

Charles did not even have enough time to take a breath when the room warped, and changed.

He was in his sitting room, Erik sitting across him, the chess board between them.

Fire crackled in the fireplace, but there was little warmth. Erik was contemplating his next move. His hands above his brow, his fingers absently picking at lint on his favourite dark blue jeans.

"Charles, I swear you cheat at this game."

The voice sounded so warm, full of life and a hint of laughter. Charles shook his head, confused. This cannot be, this isn't right. Erik is not here –

"Charles! Earth to Charles? Make your move," said Erik. Charles felt a tug in his loins at how beautiful the dark-haired man looked in the glow of the fire. Beneath the thin cotton t-shirt he saw outline of firm muscle.

He laughed, somehow the worries he had earlier didn't seem real anymore. "Alright, alright. Here. Rook two squares left… and check. Oh wait. Check… mate."

Erik groaned. "Not again. How do you do it? All you ever do is checkmate me." Charles smiled serenely. "I am a genius, you know." Erik growled. "Genius you may be but you're also a cheat," he grumbled. Suddenly Erik stood up.

"You cheated," he repeated, but the voice had changed. It was low, and menacing and full of malice. Frightened, Charles got up, trembling, and took three steps back.

"Erik?" he tentatively asked. Erik walked slowly towards him, his tall body looking shadowy and mean. He reached out, grabbed Charles by the shoulders, and shook him hard.

"Cheat! You are a liar and a cheat! You looked inside my mind, didn't you? Cheat! Fraud! Freak!" words fell out of Erik's mouth, the voice louder and louder till it filled Charles's mind with fear.

"Erik stop! What are you saying?" he pleaded, but Erik's hands had closed around his throat, choking him.

"No –" he gasped. His hands frantically reached out to pry Erik's fingers from his throat, but he was not strong enough. "NO –"

His hands, behind him, grappled for something, _anything. _He felt a thin, flat cold something. A letter opener. He grasped it, choking, his vision going grey.

"No Erik, please, no –" he wheezed. _No. NO. _Losing consciousness fast, he stabbed Erik with the letter opener, stabbed the firm stomach, felt it pierce flesh and blood. Blood poured from the wound as Erik's grip loosened, and Charles took deep gulps of air.

It was then the air wobbled again. The sitting room disappeared. In its place a cold brick cell, and Erik.

Erik who held his stomach with his hands even as blood seeped through. His eyes, glazed, staring at Charles like he didn't believe Charles had just stabbed him. Charles blinked.

He looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. One of them held a wicked hunting knife, and it was covered in ruby red.

As Shaw's mocking, triumphant laughter filled the room, all Charles could do was scream.


	6. Chapter 6

**FOREWORD: *avoids bricks thrown her way* Sorry for the horrible twist! But don't worry it isn't the end! Here is another mini-chapter! *ducks from rotten virtual eggs***

Charles remembered Erik liked strawberries. He saw a box of them at the store, saw them oh-so-red and luscious, and thought how nice it'd be to dip them in chocolate and feed them to Erik one by one…

He flushed, certain that the entire aisle-full of middle aged housewives could see his thoughts. _Pull yourself together man. You cannot go around dreamy-eyed about your lover._

Many of the aforementioned housewives cast him appreciative looks as he pushed his cart (with not one, not two, but _ten_ boxes of strawberries in it and a box of instant-waffles) to the cashier. The cashier was a tired-looking woman in her early thirties, and she looked at him and smiled as she rang up the strawberries and waffles.

"That's a lot of strawberries, isn't it?" she asked lightly. "Who are they for? You don't strike me as a strawberries kinda guy."

Charles cleared his throat. "Ah, they are for my, ah, friend. He, uh, likes them a lot and uh, his birthday is coming up – ah."

She gave a knowing 'Oh', and smiled. "Sure thing, baby. That'll be $27.25." He paid quietly, his cheeks pink, and walked out of the store as fast as he could.

_Godamnit I forgot the chocolate. I'll have to go back in -_

Despair.

All Charles felt was despair. He could not breathe from the crushing weight of it. He held Erik's still, unmoving body in his slight arms, and pressed his face against the hard chest, willing it to breathe. He couldn't cry anymore.

Shaw stood above him, clapping his hands. "Wonderful! It was such a touching, heart-breaking reunion of lovers! One gone horribly wrong as one stabs the other!" Charles ignored him, keening softly as he felt his lover's body go colder.

"Go away," Charles whispered. "You've had your fun. Kill me too and be done with it. Kill all of us and be done with it."

"OH NO! I couldn't do that. No no no no no no," said Shaw shook a finger at Charles. "What if I told you, I can save him. I have healing powers that I can use to heal him. Oh yes."

Charles looked at him, disbelief in his eyes. Shaw laughed. "You doubt me! I'm hurt! But let me assure you I can. My faith in my powers are absolute. But the question is how much will you _pay _me?"

Shaw tilted Charles' chin up. "How much are you willing to give up to me if I told you I could save your precious Erik… for a price."

Charles blinked. "Anything," he whispered. "Anything."

Shaw threw his head back in delight, and let out a barking laugh. "I was hoping you'd say that! How amazing love is! Well, my price is simple. You stay here. Erik walks away. You never see him again."

Shaw stroked Charles's tear-streaked cheeks. "And I get to own you. You belong to me. You do what I tell you to do. You kill who I tell you to kill. I saw what you did to Emma, and her band of mutants. I saw you crush them from inside their brains. I want you to do that for me. What do you say?"

_I can't. I must not say yes. I must escape from here, take Erik to a doctor, a doctor can save him –_

"Yes."


	7. Chapter 7

**FOREWORD: As promised, here is another chapter, more angst still to come. I simply cannot express how much I appreciate every review, so please keep reading and reviewing! Also, forgive typos and words which may not make sense. I type on my iPad/iPhone sometimes and autocorrect is -_-"**

**(I do not own characters. No. Not in a hell-hole chance. Also, James MacAvoy is indeed smexy, but any reader out there who prefers the brooding Michael Fassbender, who btw, is also equally delicious? Feel free to discuss in reviews!)**

Charles would wonder, years later, how it all happened. How he could have said yes to a man who was clearly insane. Who was drunk on the power absorbed from so many thousands of sources over the years. He wondered how he could have just given up, broken down.

But say yes he did, because at that moment, all he could think of was Erik. Erik, whom he would watch sleep sometimes. Erik, whose every breath he stored in his heart, whose every move was imprinted in his soul. Charles only wanted to see Erik breathe again. He didn't care how, and he certainly didn't care if he had to give himself up for it.

Because Erik was everything to him. Erik, who stroked his hair and whispered sweet things in his ear even as he heaved, ragged breaths from a sweaty, rough, intense round of sex.

Shaw had laughed so hard Charles wanted to punch his teeth right out of his mouth. But as it were, he only gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and let Shaw touch the unbreathing, cold body that was Erik.

He stared as Shaw touched Erik's chest and sent sparks of blue straight into the heart.

He felt tears of relief prickle his eyes as Erik gasped, a shuddering breath, and his chest moved up and down, as he coughed flecks of blood from his lips. The fatal wound was sealed, leaving nothing more than a red welt.

"Charles!" Erik rasped as he saw Charles standing there with pain in his blue eyes.

Charles only mouthed the word "Sorry" as Shaw grabbed him from behind, possessively, and said "Now, Charles, my sweet. Now."

Charles closed his eyes as he reached out, and paralyzed Erik with his mind.

Stunned, Erik could only watch as Shaw kissed Charles's neck in appreciation, and smirked at him.

"Now Charles, I'm going to ask you to kill those four young mutants there because they've been bad," breathed Shaw, his hot breath tickling Charles ears, repulsing him.

"No!" protested Charles. "No, I won't do it!"

"Oh?" said Shaw. "I see. Then how about I give you a choice. See now my mutant friends are going to knife each and everyone of your students. You can choose to kill my mutants or they'll kill yours. I don't care what choice you make because all I want is to see if you can control your powers to kill."

Charles could not believe his ears.

"You foul- evil- _you murderer_," he said, his voice shaking, his hands trembling.

Shaw looked mildly amused. "I've been called murderer before but honestly not by such a beautiful pair of lips! What harsh words! They don't match your soft lips at all. Here, maybe I can help with that -" he crushed Charles lips to his dry ones, and bit down on Charles's lower lip.

Crying out in surprise Charles pulled away, but Shaw held him tight.

"Nah ah ah." He admonished. "Bad puppy."

He reached a cold hand down to Charles's buttocks. "Bad puppies get punished. Do you want to get punished?"

Charles grimaced. "No."

"No, what?"

"No... Master."

Shaw laughed. "Good boy! Now do as I tell you. Choose who you want to kill."

Charles decided his soul would have to wait. He had to try to save the people he loved, at least once. Concentrating hard, he tried to remember how his powers had exploded and killed the mutants who attacked that night.

He was shocked to find that inside his mind he knew just how to do it. That he had been repressing it all the while.

His soul too shattered to cry, he did it. He did as he was told, and killed Shaw's accomplices.

Shaw, who was delighted with the power his new toy displayed, was ecstatic, gleefully clapping his hands and motioning to another mutant to set them free.

"I'm going to set them free," he said as Charles sighed with relief. "But! You will wipe their memories. I don't want them poking around and taking revenge or some stupid thing like that."

Feeling only numbness Charles took a long last look at his family.

He looked into Raven's feline eyes. Her memory, he had to wipe from her childhood, when she stole food from his home and he had told her he'd protect her always.

He took one last look at Alex, at Red, at Hank and his ridiculous blue-roses scheme.

And most of all he looked at Erik. Erik, whose body was shuddering as he tried to fight the paralysis.

_I love you_, he projected as the last thought, as he probed their minds and wiped all memories since they day they met.

He wiped out their memories of him, of how he met them and recruited them and taught them. He wiped their recollections of the castle, of his horrifyingly bad omelets. It would be as if he never existed.

He erased himself from Erik's mind. That hurt the most. It hurt him so badly he thought he could die from it. Hurt him so that he felt it like an actual physical tumor gnawing in his chest.

Shaw smiled with bliss as he saw tears falling from the blue eyes. He stroked his new pet's soft, smooth hair.

"Good. Now render them unconscious. I'll set them free. I'm a man of my word, you know."

And so he was. He had them carried out of the dungeon he had trapped them in. He had them put in hospitals.

When they woke up they could not remember the events of the past six months. Raven could not remember her name, and who she even was. All she remembered was a hunger.

It was a fugue, said the doctors, who classified their cases as an anomaly, and subjected them to many tests that hurt and invaded before letting them go home - but none of them remembered home at all. They all felt a loss however, as if a huge chunk of their lives have been surgically removed.

Erik felt the loss more keenly than the rest, for their teenage innocence and resilience, as only teenagers could have, adapted to their situation quickly. Erik felt as if he had lost a part of himself, and worse, he couldn't even remember what was the part - or who was that part - at all.

So he returned to his wandering ways, returning to his lone-wolf habits, but every time he smelled a faint hint of citrus in the air, or saw a pair of blue eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat but didn't know why.

He also developed an aversion to omelets, and found he couldn't eat a single strawberry without blushing quite as red as the fruit. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night, a name from a dream on his lips, but that name would disappear just as soon as he woke up. Nights like those he couldn't sleep, as his dreams were filled with hot flesh on hot flesh, a pair of soft, kissable lips, and a voice that cried out his name like it were oxygen.

Nights like those he drank to get them out of his head, but it never worked. He was deeply unhappy, miserable as hell.

He just didn't know why.

XXXX

"Charles?"

"Mmm?"

"You're beautiful. I want you."

"Not now, Erik, I'm trying to get some sleep."

"It's four in the afternoon!"

"Well, that's because you kept me up awake last night. The kids are all throwing themselves a little party and making a mess in the great hall downstairs and they won't bother me with their questions for at _least _four hours so I need some sleep –." He gasped.

Erik's wicked tongue had found itself a spot to taste, just at his collarbone.

"Erik. I really, really need to sleep. I cannot concentrate if I don't get enough rest."

But Erik continued downward, taking a nipple and licking it hungrily.

"ERIK!" warned Charles, pushing his head away. "Please! You are insatiable!"

But Erik was back again, this time at his neck, then his shoulders, then to his hipbone. Charles squirmed, trying to avoid the pleasure but at the same time, could not.

"Charles. You are a very intelligent man. Most intelligent man I ever knew or I'll ever know."

"Why, thank you." The tone was sarcastic.

"But you're very stupid if you think I'm going to be thwarted from ravishing you just because you say no. It will be much better if you just enjoyed this. I assure you. I will make it worth –" He nipped at Charles's wrists – "your while."

Charles couldn't help it. He laughed, a warm sound that rolled from his throat and went straight to Erik's loins.

"Erik, I would succumb, but I'm afraid I don't have the energy to keep up with you today. I'll be a most dreadful _bottom_, ahem, to your _top_, if I may be so blunt."

Erik shrugged. "Doesn't make a difference to me. Just lie there. I'm horny enough for the both of us." Charles now literally exploded with mirth as Erik growled.

"I don't appreciate getting laughed at when I'm trying to seduce someone."

"Oh Erik, my dear Erik. I love you. But I need sleep. Look at my eyes. They're bloodshot!" Erik looked at the laughing blue eyes. They were, indeed, bloodshot and red-rimmed with tiredness. Erik struggled between his heart and his lower extremities for quite a long moment, before his love for Charles won out. And anyway, it could give him an excuse to do unspeakably sexual and kinky things later.

He sighed. "Fine. What would you have me do?"

Charles smiled, pleased. "Hold me as I sleep. I'd like that a lot."

Sighing again, as if cuddling was a _sin_ when one wanted rough, sweaty sex, Erik did as he was asked. Charles closed his eyes, warm in Erik's all-encompassing embrace. _Bliss. Absolute bliss…_

XXXX

Charles woke up, a scream on his lips. He could not remember his name from the pain that shot through his mind, the _pressure _that seemed to crush his brain from inside his skull, the leather straps across his chest biting painfully into his skin as he was tortured, mentally and physically, by the monster that was Shaw.

He could not remember the last second he took a breath that did not hurt, or moved a muscle that did not burn. His long, carefully combed brown locks had been sheared off cruelly with a pair of blunt scissors, leaving a tumble of short and long chunks that made him look like a David Copperfield orphan.

His body was gaunt from two weeks of near-starvation. He had nothing more to eat than a chunk of stale bread each day, which was practically shoved in his mouth everyday - along with other things.

He would feel ashamed, defiled by the rape and torture he was subjected to, but all he could think of was Erik. Only his memories of Erik remained, and each day as he lost consciousness from the 'experimenting' that Shaw did on him and his powers, he escaped into his memories of Erik.

_No matter what Shaw does, he can't touch my memories of Erik_, thought Charles with satisfaction.

It got harder as the days passed, however, as pain began to drive everything out of his mind. He could not remember Erik's face, or his scent, or his body as Shaw did unspeakable things to Charles's body.

Sometimes he wondered if it would have been easier to have died that day. To have given up his life along with Erik.

He didn't have an answer, but his answer became a more definite yes with each thrust of Shaw's hips, with each heavy invasion of his body.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he would be killed by this madman. _But by then_, thought Charles, _maybe I will no longer remember who I am and what I did. Perhaps death would be a welcome respite. _


	8. Chapter 8

**FOREWORD: A billion heartfelt apologies for the extremely delayed update. Work caught up with me at last (one can only hang on to three-day weekends for so long before the seven-day work week catches up with you). I am amazed everyone is still reading this, so THANK YOU SO SO MUCH, please R&R you beautiful, marvelous people!**

Erik Lensherr was sorting out his old clothes. He was going away. He didn't know where, and neither did he care, but he needed to go away from the shadowy ghosts that now seem to follow him wherever he went. The whispers of long-forgotten pleasures that echoed with his every step.

He carelessly tossed a stack of turtleneck sweaters into a big duffel bag. Anything that looked as if it no longer fit, or were torn, he tossed into a black plastic bag.

It was then he saw a white shirt significantly smaller in size than the rest of his clothes. Its buttons were mostly missing. He lifted it closer to get a good look at it, and then he caught a whiff of citrus, with an undertone of woodsy cedar…

_Erik! No! Stop! _

Erik staggered.

_Oh god please don't do that I can't—I can't – Fuck! _

He reeled as distant and hazy memories threatened to break through. He heard a voice, calling his name, and the soft touch of hot skin.

_Erik, oh god, I'm coming -_

Erik shut his eyes, crying out as he tried to centre the fleeting images but it slipped past him like sand from his fingers. Howling in frustration, he punched the wall hard enough to leave a fist-shaped dent in, and to almost-crush his knuckles.

He frantically tossed his stack of clothes, wishing with all his heart that he will find another item of clothing which would mean something, perhaps finally fill that goddamned empty hole in his heart. He found none.

Snatching up the white shirt again, he took a deep breath, but the scent was no longer there. "NO! Goddammit NO!" he shouted. _That shirt meant something! It belonged to someone – but who? I need to know. I must know. I must find out or I will go insane._

He ransacked his belongings, what scant little of it there was. He desperately needed to find something that would help him make sense of the shadows and memories. A kind of frenzy overtook him, so much that he didn't notice it at first – a small, pathetically tacky plastic replica of the Eiffel Tower, hung on an equally pathetic knot of red string.

Then it was like a hand had reached inside his chest and squeezed his beating heart. It stopped, for what seemed like an eternity, as the memories came flooding back so quickly, so _intensely, _that his legs gave way.

He slumped on to his knees on the threadbare carpets. Clutching the tacky keychain in his fists so hard the corners bit into his palms, he closed his eyes, and he remembered.

Remembered that one morning when Charles had dragged him out to the two-bit carnival that had stopped at a nearby township. It was nothing more than six game stalls, two stands selling memorabilia, and one Ferris Wheel that looked about as safe as driving a car without brakes.

_The games are rigged, _he remembered Charles saying as he laughed, those blue eyes practically hypnotic with its brightness. _Nobody ever wins. Not even you, Mr Metal Man._

Erik remembered he had smiled, wide, taking on the challenge. _Oh really? If it be metal they use for these cheap games at all, then it be metal I shall manipulate and win you that incredibly stupid blue teddy bear. _

One would think Erik had promised the entire contents of Tiffany's, what with the smile on Charles's face.

_I would like that incredibly foolish blue bear. In fact, I would like the blue monkey even better. _

Erik pulled a face. _I am not winning you a monkey. You have enough monkeys in your house, ruining your lawns and mutilating your roses._

Charles only grinned. _Well on with you then. Go shoot me a winner. _

Erik didn't win the blue bear, or the monkey, but he won a miniature Eiffel Tower keychain which looked about as stupid as he felt.

_It wasn't metal. They were using something else as the bullets, _he remembered grumbling. Charles had laughed and laughed that day, at everything – at whatever Erik said, at the way he scowled at the carnie who tried to sell him a pink balloon, at the way he had taken one look at cotton candy and been absolutely bewildered that it did not, actually, in fact, taste like cotton.

Erik could not remember seeing Charles look so carefree. The telepath was usually so solemn, except for the times Erik managed to pleasure him to distraction. And after the whole affair with the attacks in the hospitals, Charles had been even more worried. The frown that marred the brow, and made that boyish face look older than its years did not smooth away even after they made love – frantic, heated, passionate, sometimes rough love.

Erik wanted to rub away the knots on the shoulder of his lover, but he did not know how to – the only way he knew how to relieve someone was through the throes of sex, preferably with several orgasms involved. Which, considering his libido always did outstrip Charles's by quite a considerable amount, was not as effective on easing the burdens of the leader of XMen as Erik would have wanted.

He hated crowds, but he had gone to that carnival anyway, because Charles wanted to. Lord knew why. So he played the stupid games, risked his life on the ferris wheel, ate the cotton candy which was possibly the worst-named candy in the world (_it looks like cotton, Erik, doesn't mean it has to taste like cotton) _and played along as Charles dragged him from end to end. He even suffered his fortune read (_Oh, young man, I see much power within your destiny…). _

Erik did all that, because he knew two things: He loved Charles, and there would yes, most likely be reward-sex involved later.

And there was, but something was different as they lay entwined that night, after all the day's activities had been depleted (Charles had insisted on ice-cream, which was incredibly unusual and oddly child-like).

Charles had been distant. He did not press his face to Erik's chest as he always did. And when Erik reached over to curl his fingers in the long, brown locks, he had pulled away slightly.

Surprised, Erik was inclined to be angry. Even though cuddling after sex was not his thing (and Erik would rather die than admit that he needed Charles to cuddle him afterwards, because he always felt guilty for hurting Charles and needed to know Charles was okay), Erik asked, a tad harshly, what was wrong.

_I've been having nightmares. Sometimes I am so afraid I would get trapped in them, and never wake up._ Charles's voice was small, fearful, and Erik felt a frisson of anxiety as he noticed a slight trembling in Charles's lips.

_I see my mother's face sometimes. She's yelling at me. I see the spit flying from the corners of her lips – I can't stop watching as she takes things and throws them at me. Then my dad would come to my rescue but –_

Charles took a sharp breath.

_But, what, love?_

_But my dad can't dodge on time. And something will hit him in the face, and all I would see is blood – oh god, so much blood all over the place –_

Heartstrings yanked, Erik held Charles tightly as he shuddered and choked on a sob. He murmured comforting words, some in German, some in English, willing his lover to be calm.

Nights like those, he loved Charles so deeply it felt like his soul would burn from the intensity. Nights like those he would slowly, lovingly, achingly give Charles all the pleasure he knew how to give, taking none for himself. Nights like those he did not take Charles like he usually would –fast, brutal, possessively and aggressively.

It was like a push and pull of conflicting emotions with Charles. He loved Charles with such a fierce passion he would bruise Charles with it, yet his lips were gentle enough to kiss those bruises away. With Charles, Erik was a cyclone of emotion, love and passion.

The next morning, Erik crept out of bed, leaving Charles to sleep a while longer. He greeted the morning sun at the balcony, stretching out his chiseled, naked body, basking in the warmth. He felt a prickle in his temples, and turned around to see Charles had awoken, and was staring at him with unabashed admiration.

_I love you. _

Erik smiled. _I know. _

Charles padded softly over to him, and hugged him from behind, his small frame barely matching Erik's. He rested his cheeks on Erik's shoulders, his hands flat against Erik's chest. _I love you. _

Erik turned around, tilted his chin, and brought his lips for a soft, chaste kiss.

_I will do anything for you. Even move the Eiffel Tower with my mind if I thought it had offended you somehow, _Erik smiled as he noticed that Charles had somehow found a red string to tie the tacky plastic miniature around his neck.

_Ooh, big promise. Well, I'll hold you to it. _Charles reached up, removed the Eiffel Tower from his neck and put it around Erik's neck instead, standing on his tip toes to reach.

Erik caught his wrists, and kissed Charles hard, his tongue seeking entry and his hands pinning him to the wall. _Mmm. I intend to keep my promises. I always do. And I promise I'll fuck the living daylights out of you right now. _

Charles huffed a laugh. _Do you ever stop to think that I may not be quite as eagerly sexual as you always seem to be? Or that I may not want to have sex when I feel disgusting in the morning?_

_You're far from disgusting, _Erik had said as he plotted a path down Charles nipples, then stomach, then finally –

_OH. Erik! _As he took Charles to the bed to be properly ravished, Erik felt that nothing could be more perfect…

"Oh god, Charles, fuck! Fuck! Where are you?" an anguished cry from his own lips woke Erik from his memories. He finally knew who once filled that part of his heart. Horror washed over him like a cold bath as he remembered what had happened, what Shaw _did, what Charles did to all the XMen._

Erik cried then, loud sobs that was part relief, part grief. But he knew he could not indulge in his grief, he had to find Charles. He brushed his hands roughly across his eyes, got up, and strode straight out of the cheap motel he had called home for a few weeks now.

Stealing a car was easy, and he peeled out of the parking lot like a madman. He had to find Charles, and he needed to do it fast.

Driving faster than he intended to, distracted by what he had just remembered, he didn't notice a figure materialize in the back seat of the truck he stole. He didn't notice it when a scaly hand crept around his neck and squeezed.

Choking, his control of the car wavered, and he swerved off the road and into the trees. Barely able to shout, he crashed into a large tree, his head snapping back sharply as the safety belt held him back, and quite possibly saved his life. The mutant in the back seat seemed unaffected, as the grip never loosened.

As consciousness threatened to leave him, he heard a dry hiss.

"Sssshaw was right. The telepath would not have erassssed everything. Issssn't it lucky he asked us to follow all of you? You'll never ssssave your precious Charlesss, Erik Lensssherr. Never."


	9. Chapter 9

**FOREWORD: In which I make up for a two-day absence. Thank you, thank you, thank you everyone. I may not own the original XMen characters, but I feel almost a fondness for them by now, largely thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. Heck, even if you didn't review and are still reading, I am thankful. Enjoy Chapter 9, everyone. And THANK YOU.**

"It's time to eat, Professor."

Charles's eyes, swollen shut from a beating he had got from Shaw last night for refusing to blow somebody up with his mind, fluttered.

A smile crept over his battered face. His lips cracked with the effort, but he smiled.

"Why thank you. Bread again, I suppose. Nothing like dry, stale carbohydrates to fuel the mind and body."

The mutant, who looked normal save for mismatched eyes, only stared at him.

"Funny," he said in a tone of voice that clearly implied he found it decidedly unfunny that Charles could still be making sarcastic jokes when starved, tied up, beaten and tortured for more than three weeks now.

Charles held out his hands, tied at the wrists with rough rope, and reached for the hunk of bread. He had been released from the full-body manacles only after Shaw realised if he continued to truss up the telepath like a chicken, Charles would die.

Charles eagerly wolfed down the bread, and even though his hands shook as he lifted the metal cup of water to his lips, he was thankful he had something to eat.

The mutant watched him eat coldly.

"I would share some with you, but I'm afraid this is all I've had to eat in two days and I must be selfish," Charles said with a hint of sarcasm.

The mutant made no discernible movement to show he even heard what Charles had said.

Charles shrugged (most painful action in the whole world, considering Shaw had broken his shoulder a week ago) and finished the bread.

He finished the water and the mutant took the cup away, exiting the room and leaving Charles in the dark, alone with his memories of Erik, once more.

Charles felt grief wash over him, slowly.

_Erik, my lover. Or my boyfriend? My partner?_

He remembered asking just that to his tall, dark haired lover before this madness begun.

They were on the couch after Erik had somehow pounced on him while he was reading a book (it was Leo Tolstoy, and much as he appreciated the grandiosity of the words, the immenseness of the work, he had found himself bored to tears) and had decided that Charles needed to have mindblowing sex.

He didn't, but he knew resistance was futile.

So he let Erik have his way with him, clinging on to the stronger man as he came and bit down on Charles neck to mark him as his.

"Charles?"

"Yes Erik?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I am thinking where you get your energy from." He laughed, and pushed Erik away half-heartedly

Erik grinned.

"Well, you are mine, aren't you?"

"What- how- hey, I never said I would be your boyfriend."

The grin grew wider.

"Charles. If there is any _boy_-" he emphasized the word boy- "friending to do here it would be by me. Clearly, I am the dominant partner and I am, essentially, the top. I am the man of the relationship, for the lack of a better description."

Charles burst out laughing.

"Well now, marking territories are we? What makes you sure I do not have some wicked power over you that makes you want to ravish me all the time - and I do mean all the time."

Erik frowned. "Well, I mean, I -"

Charles reached out and kissed his lover.

"I am just joking, Erik. You can be whichever partner you want to be in what we have."

Erik's face relaxed, and he nodded. "Fine. Then I want to be your Erik. Just your Erik."

Charles touched the always smoothly-shaven cheeks, and a slow, gentle smile lit up his face.

"And I am always your Charles."

Erik kissed his fingers, and then stopped, a puzzled look on his face.

"Are you my girlfriend then? That doesn't seem right..."

Charles chortled. "No, good God. Does it matter so much to you if we are a couple?"

Erik cocked his head to one side.

"No," he said, his tone strangely serious. "But I sometimes wonder what we are. I've never actually gone on a date with you, so that means I am not quite your boyfriend. I love you to death, but I am not married to you and I don't intend to. Yet here we are, bickering like married couple.." he trailed off.

Charles was surprised.

"Isnt it enough that we are together, for now? That I love you, and that you love me? And then there's the great sex..." teased Charles.

Erik continued to frown. "Yes, but..."

Charles stopped him with a fierce kiss.

"I love you," he repeated. "It doesn't matter what we are. Soulmates, life partners, lovers, boyfriends, it doesn't matter."

Erik finally smiled. "You do know you're bordering on sappy, aren't you? And that you're getting all weepy?" He reached out to flick an imaginary tear away from Charles eyes.

Charles slapped Erik's hands away playfully.

"Godammit Erik, you're incorrigible."

"Mmmm?" Erik was quite unbothered. He was already distracted elsewhere, especially by Charles's perfect neck...

"Erik..."

"Nuh uh. Don't talk. Each time you talk I feel you're trying to get inside my head. I think I need to be rough with you, so that all you can think of is me." His hands reached down, and he slipped three fingers inside dry.

"Erik! That hurts!"

"Good." Erik's breath was hot in his ear. "I intend to make you scream."

And then it was madness, sex in its most primal as Erik drove in only semi-lubricated, piercing Charles more painfully than before, biting so hard he actually left teeth marks and blood on Charles's shoulders as he rammed himself in hard...

XXXXX

Charles moaned as a splash of cold water woke him from his dream.

"Somebody's been getting horny all by himself," came that hated voice.

Charles looked out of one semi-good eye.

"Fuck off," he growled. The voice tsk-ed tsk-ed in reprimand.

"Such language. Well, have you decided if today is the day you would use your big brain to do more things for me? I've got a world to conquer and I cannot do it if you won't co-operate with me."

"You'll have to kill me first," he spat out.

Shaw stared down at Charles, anger literally spewing out from his body.

"Is that your final answer? Because I could. I could crush you like a bug."

"Then do it!" Charles shouted back. "See if I care! Everyone I love now no longer even know me!"

Shaw stared, for a while, and then he chuckled without mirth.

"Oh no, dear pet, no. Your Erik had an... epiphany, shall we say? He remembered you. And he tried to come for you but I sent my mutants to watch each and every one of your precious XMen just in case their memories came back."

Charles could not conceal his shock. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. No, I am serious. I didn't, but my mutant did. Quite a pleasant fellow, even if a bit scaly..."

"Erik's dead?" Charles voice was barely above a whisper.

"_Not a chance in hell_," came a voice from behind Shaw.

It was as if Charles had dreamt about Erik so much that he had brought an apparition to life. Erik was bloodied, pale, bruised, but he was there.

His appearance was so unexpected that Shaw reeled, blood draining from his already sallow face.

"YOU!" he gasped.

"Yes me." Erik limped, but he limped calmly towards Shaw.

"I'm here to kill you," he said matter-of-factly. "Your minions are dead outside. Those who are alive will not be for long. I had help."

From behind him, Charles saw Raven, her yellow eyes ablaze, he saw Hank, who had a mutant dangling in the air as he caught it by the throat.

He saw Alex had blasted straight through the reinforced doors and that all the glass in the dungeon had shattered as Red stood there, watching grimly.

Erik took advantage of Shaw's shock to bind him with two long, thick metal rods.

Shaw was spewing German obscenities at him, but Erik was unfazed, and he used the metal to pin Shaw to the stone walls.

"You nearly killed me. Oh yes. But fortunately, your little mutant stalker had a metal plate installed in his skull, so many years ago. It was a simple matter to pull it out of him. I'm sure it hurt quite a bit," grinned Erik and for one wild moment Charles was frightened by the darkness in his eyes.

"Let's see if you have any metal in you, Dr Sebastian Shaw," Erik said through gritted teeth. He spread out his fingers, searching, one hand in a fist gripping tightly to the metal binds.

"Oooh, no, not really, but what do we have here? A metal tooth filling. Let's see that," he said, pulling it out of Shaw's mouth as Shaw screamed.

"Shhhhh doctor. It's just a bad toothache," Erik grinned, his voice cold.

"How about all the iron in your blood? Maybe I can take it out?"

Erik narrowed his eyes, and clenched his right hand in a fist. With one smooth motion blood began to pour out in fine droplets from Shaw's every orifice.

Shaw's body shuddered violent as blood gurgled in his throat. He was drowning with own blood as a fine bloody mist sprayed out of his nose.

Horrified, Charles cried out. "Erik! No! Stop!"

Erik turned his rage-maddened eyes towards Charles. "He hurt you. He needs to suffer for it. Dont you doctor?" he shrieked.

"Erik.. -my little m-m-monster. My l-l-little freak of nature. Look how much darkness there is in you-" choked Shaw, his voice thick with blood. "I am proud of you. Y-you.. turned out to be - be- a killer."

Erik screamed then, a primal yell that tore from his throat. He tightened the metal rods with a vicious grip, and the metal cut Shaw's body into three parts in an explosion of gore and blood.

Charles watched, as a splash of blood landed on his face and chest. The warmth of the blood was sickening, the smell threatened to overwhelm him with bile. He saw, with terror, that what remained of Shaw was scattered all over the ground. The metal had crushed him into exactly, and _exactly, _three parts. Some of which had splattered on Charles.

He shrieked out in fear as Erik walked towards him.

"No! Don't come near me!" he screamed, throwing up a barrier in front of him, blocking Erik's path.

"Charles - my love -" his voice was pleading, but the madness in his eyes still remained.

"Get away from me! You are not Erik! You are not my Erik! No!" Charles was completely hysterical, his mind finally broken with the violence, the bloody gore, long weeks of torture, and the suddenness of his rescue, and the overwhelming fear of Erik's fatal power.

He thrashed wildly as Raven rushed forward to untie him, to cover his naked, bleeding body with her coat. He kept screaming, his voice hoarse as Hank lifted his body to check for injuries.

All the while, Charles's wide eyes stared at Erik, who was standing there, unmoving, as he struggled with his murderous rage,

"Oh Charles!" cried Raven as she hugged him tightly. "We're here, we're going to save you, please, stop, stop screaming."

Charles looked at his adopted sister, and stopped suddenly, choking off his screams with a hoarse rattle in his throat.

"R-Raven. Get me.. Get me out of here."

Then darkness, cold comforting darkness crept over Charles, and he fell, gladly into the embrace of oblivion.

XXXX

When he woke up the room was almost empty, save for a sleeping figure curled up at the foot of his bed.

He recognised the dark head of hair, the curve of the steel back, he memorised the shape of the body that was Erik.

He closed his eyes again, unwilling to awaken and deal with what he had just experienced. His body ached everywhere, and it felt like his muscles had been torn in several places. His face throbbed. His head throbbed.

He groaned, softly, as he got out of bed slowly. He put his feet on to the soft carpets, his senses reeling from its luxury as his mind tried to come around the torture he had faced for three weeks.

_The longest three weeks of my life,_ he thought with a wince. He shuffled slowly to the attached bathroom, and gently wiped his face with a wet towel. The cold dampness was a miracle boon to his sore face and he let out a small moan.

"Charles?" a voice called out from the room. He grimaced. "In here." Erik came around the bathroom door, but didn't step in. His hesitation struck a chord with Charles. The Erik he knew would have barged in and hogged the bathroom, or would have had bent Charles over the sink, _then _hogged the bathroom.

"Can I come in?" Erik was tentative, awkward, unsure of where to put his tall, well-cut body. Charles flushed. "Yes." Still Erik hesitated.

"Charles, I –."

Charles shook his head. "Not now Erik. Someday I will ask you what happened back there, and someday you will tell me how you remembered, how you survived, how the _kids _survived."

"But not today."

He walked over to Erik, and put a cool hand to the thin cheek (Erik had not been able to eat in days, unable to choke down even the smallest morsel as Charles lay unconscious for six days in hospital). Erik closed his eyes, and leaned in to the familiar touch.

"Today, Erik, I want you to leave me alone. I need to think. I need to heal my own heart before I can give it to you again."

Erik stared, white-faced, and nodded. "I love you. I always will."

Charles turned away, his blue eyes cloudy. "I know, Erik. But today, that alone isn't enough."


	10. Chapter 10

**FOREWORD: Hello one and all. This writer is horribly sleepy, but is here to whack out yet another angst-filled update. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing, and again, I am just so darned happy you're all STILL sticking to the story! I love you guys. *big grin* Enjoy!**

_Erik and I were fighting. Why were we fighting? I don't remember now. It was something insignificant I guess. It seems so long ago._

_He was throwing things at me – metal things. A metal pepper shaker, a doorknob, several stainless steel pots. None of it hit me, I suppose he didn't want it to, possibly he only wanted to direct his rage at something. _

_He wouldn't let me near him, his body was a mass of angry hate. He was trembling, his voice raised high, high enough to get Raven peeking in through the windows before I smiled, shook my head and told her "I got this"._

_And I did. Erik's anger eventually spent himself and he settled for bending all the household utensils out of shape. Some light fixtures went loose, but nothing he wouldn't shame-facedly fix later. He was sulky, and his cheeks were flushed. I knew him well enough to know he will soon take me in his arms, and have his way with me – anger fueled his desires, it's the only way he knows how to deal with his emotions. _

_But it was later as he rested his head on my thin chest that he told me, his voice unusually soft, that he was sorry. I told him he needn't be, really. _

_Because I have taken him - his rage, his temper, his imperfection, his darkness – all of him, as mine._

XXXX

"I knew I lost you, even before I knew it was you I had lost."

Erik's voice was shaky, soft, and in the flickering firelight the flames cast a shadow as he sat on the couch, a drink in his hand. At his feet, facing him, is the chess set that he and Charles had spent many a night (not) playing. Charles's drink is there, too, but it is untouched.

Charles is standing by the window, one hand gripping the stiff embroidered drapes, the other in his pockets as his back was turned to Erik.

"I don't know where to start. How did I remember you? I found you within the stack of my clothes. It was that ridiculous white shirt of yours, the one that I – ruined when I –," he paused, cleared his throat. "When I had… rough sex with you."

Charles stiffened, but didn't utter a word.

Erik ran a finger through his hair, pushing it up in spikes. He grimaced as he saw Charles's shortened hair, cut closely to hide the improvised 'haircut' Shaw had given him.

"Then I remembered the day in the carnival… and it all came back. I tried to get to you sooner, but a mutant attacked me. I… pulled out a metal plate he had inside his skull. It was ugly, but I had to get to you," he continued. Still, Charles said nothing.

Erik sighed. "I escaped, and I knew I had to find Raven. If I could help reclaim her memories, the others would be more easily found, and I would be able to somehow bring them back.

"She was not easy to find, let me tell you. I dug her out of some seedy bar, where she nearly scratched my eye out. I showed her that stupid toy –" he gripped the melted, twisted thing in his hands "—and I told her who you are, and I told her who she really is. She didn't believe me at first. It took heckuva lot of convincing. I still don't know how I did it."

Charles squeezed his eyes shut as he let Erik's voice wash over him. He knew everything.

XXXX

The first week he arrived home from the hospital, in his weakened state, his usually impeccable control had slipped, and he had allowed thoughts and emotions to enter his mind unblocked. He had also inadvertently read his students minds, and saw everything that happened leading up to his rescue.

But he wouldn't—couldn't – deal with it now. He couldn't even deal with looking at his own body in the mirror - he felt disgusted, repulsed by himself.

He found himself washing his body with soap over and over and over. He scrubbed his scalp so hard he felt like he was trying to scrape it off with his nails.

But no matter how many times he washed, he could not get the stain of Shaw out of his skin.

All he felt, as he slept at night, was the monster's hands on him. The cold, clammy wetness of his tongue. The hot, thick hardness that gave him so much pain. Sometimes he woke up, sweating, afraid that Shaw would come back, and touch him there again.

He told himself repeatedly that Shaw was dead, he should just man up and get over it. Erik had been rough with him all this while anyway. But he knew Erik's rough hands were pure love, while Shaw's were pure evil. He couldn't bring himself to tell Erik though. He was too ashamed, but Erik had somehow known to give him the space he needed.

Charles didn't think he could love the man any more than he already did, but there it was.

For Erik's part, however, he was slowly being driven insane. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Charles and never stop. Maybe sneak in a little sex here and there. He wanted to comfort his lover, wanted to hold him and smell that soft skin.

But every time he moved closer to Charles, he would stiffen suddenly, and move a fraction away. He tried to brush his callused hands against Charles's embarrassingly soft ones, but Charles snatched his hands away like they had been burnt.

Erik was going mad with desire, lust and - goddamnit he was horny as hell.

But he loved Charles too much to risk losing him – Erik knew forcing himself on Charles now would mean losing him forever.

The very idea terrified him, and stayed his hands from touching Charles here, there, every so often, like he always would. Erik didn't know what he would be without Charles – possibly a madman looking to destroy everything in his path. He _needed_ Charles to be there to bring him back from the brink of insanity and revenge.

So he stayed away. He would slip into his own bed at night and unknowingly mourn the loss of the warm body next to him. Some nights he couldn't sleep at all, and would sneak into Charles' room and watch him sleep, hypnotized by the rise and fall of the thin chest (he still hadn't quite put on the weight lost), hypnotized by the steady breathing.

As Charles struggled to recover, something changed between them. No longer fueled by the passions of sex, Erik proved to be capable of heart-breaking gentleness.

He anticipated Charles's needs, he bathed Charles's wounds every night. He brought Charles a blanket when he saw the man was shivering in the cold (before everything happened, he would have merely assumed that Charles needed heating up, and would proceed to stimulate hot, sweaty sex). He rubbed Charles's sore neck and shoulders.

And most of all, he waited. He waited for Charles to be okay again, for Charles to love him again, for Charles to be Charles again. He waited patiently, fearful that if he rushed in headlong he would hurt the telepath perhaps irreparably.

It did nothing for his temper, however. He found himself going off by himself for hours to punch walls or tree barks. He would run, for miles, heading nowhere. He ate. A lot. Anything to get his mind off Charles, and the way his lips curled at the edges at a hot cup of coffee…

But still, he waited.

XXXXX

Charles had still not turned around from the window, where he had stood as if he was carved in marble. Erik continued to tell him what had happened, but Charles wasn't really listening.

"Erik?" His voice was rough, unsteady.

"Yes, Charles?"

"Why haven't you touched me?"

Erik was stunned. "What?"

"Why haven't you touched me?" Charles could not bring himself to turn around. His eyes, he knew, would betray him.

Erik sat silent, for what seemed like forever. "I didn't know you wanted to be touched."

"No. I asked why."

Erik couldn't answer. How could he? How could he reveal the real reason without exposing all his fears, his insecurities? How will he tell Charles he had wanted to, so badly, but he had been too scared?

Charles finally turned around. His pale skin was lit by the light cast by the fire, his blue eyes were two bright sapphires in the shadows.

"Erik. Answer me."

Erik exploded. "I was scared, okay? I didn't know how to touch you anymore! I didn't know if you would want me to anymore! I don't know what Shaw did to you! How can I possibly—."

Erik hurled the glass he was holding to the floor, where it splashed amber liquid all over the carpet.

In three great strides he crossed the distance between them and pinned Charles to the wall with his body, his palms flat on the wall.

He crushed his lips to Charles's and kissed him with everything he had held back for over a month. Every frustration, his grief, his worries, his fears, his _love _– he put into that one kiss.

He didn't care that Charles's hands were on his chest, pushing him away. He had to taste those lips… Then suddenly Charles seemed to relax, and Erik reached inside his shirt to touch a nipple –

Charles gasped, arched his back. Erik, emboldened, undid the buttons and trailed kisses down his neck, his collarbone. Breath hitching, Erik was aggressive, his pent-up desires almost too much to bear. Charles could feel Erik's arousal, against his stomach. He tried to quell the rising bile – _it's Erik, not Shaw, oh god – _then Erik's hands went to undo his pants -

"NO!" Charles pushed hard, hard enough to throw Erik off balance, and fall on his back.

Erik stared at Charles for one short, intense split-second, then with a roar of frustration he stormed out the room.

"ERIK – wait please!" Charles called out. Erik froze at the doorway.

"Erik, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't. I can't wash _him _away from my skin. I feel _him _inside me, _on_ me, all the time. I'm so sorry."

Erik couldn't trust himself to speak, so he didn't. He turned and saw the desperation, the agony on that beautiful face.

"Tell me what you want Charles. I can't keep playing guessing games. I can't read your mind, damnit!"

"I don't know, Erik. I don't know!"

Erik turned away. He never cried. He despised tears in a man. He would have his eyes ripped out before he let tears fell from his eyes again. He hadn't cried since the day he saw his mother die. He refused to be weak. If he cried it would be nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction from pain, or from laughing too hard.

But as he walked away from Charles, as he walked along the hallways, as fast as he could, to get away from Charles, he cried.

He heaved gulping sobs as he stumbled down the hall. His body felt like it was too tight, too restrained, like his grief was going to explode out of him. He burst out of the main doors, and took in the cold night air. Even as the wintry air threatened to freeze his bones, he cried.

Because he really didn't know what else to do.

XXXX

_Erik is putting too much sugar into my coffee as I put too much salt on his eggs. I watch him toss spoonful after spoonful into my coffee. He grunts when I smile at him. _

"_Someday the sugar is going to catch up with you."_

"_I know. You'll love me even if I'm fat, yes?"_

_Erik laughed. I savour the sound, I don't hear it enough. He pecks me on the cheek, and whispers in my ear._

"_Always."_


	11. Chapter 11

**FOREWORD: ZOMG I almost forgot. I owe y'all an explanation for my long absence! Well, some Pretty Big Sh*t was Going Down here where I am, and I was called to be part of that Pretty Big Sh*t. So work totally overwhelmed me and I found myself with no time to eat or sleep or, well, have a life. But lo! Behold! I typed this out in the train and then all the way into the wee hours of the morning so forgive me if it's a bit here and there but I needed to showcase the push-pull of Charles' imminent recovery – zomg I will stop typing now, love u guys, thx for reviewing!**

Raven sat on the high stool, her blue feet barely touching the floor. Her elbows resting on the marble counter top. A bowl of rather nasty-looking fruit stood forlornly on the same counter top, and she stared at it, barely seeing it as she sipped her rapidly cooling coffee.

Charles's back was turned to her, he was busy cooking up another of his quite inedible omelets. She stared at his thin back, his slim waist, the way his jeans hung a little too loosely.

He's still so thin, she thought with a pang. He never quite recovered... _God I miss the old Charles_. _He used to be so full of energy. Even though he was an insufferable pain in the behind, I liked annoying Charles better than morose, melancholy Charles. _

Charles turned around, a grin of triumph on his face. His blue eyes lit up for a while as he slid the only-slightly burned mess on a plate.

"There. Breakfast," he announced. She stared at the eggy mess with apprehension.

"My breakfast? I'm not eating that!" she shuddered.

His face fell "Aww come on it ain't that bad," he pouted.

"It's worse," she snapped. He looked so crestfallen that she softened.

"Fine." Picking up a fork she forced the eggs down her throat. It was far too salty and the middle bits were uncooked.

As she ate, he smiled at her.

It was one of the few smiles she had seen from him for a long while, so she bravely attacked the frankly inedible eggs.

As she ate, she watched him wash off the burnt crusts on the saucepan.

Oh Charles, she thought, her heart melting. She was still getting around the fact he had wiped her memory and how she had remembered him when Erik found her in some dubious bar, his eyes wild and clutching a stupid plastic miniature of the Eiffel Tower.

She had nearly attacked him, but memories flooded her mind before she did.

XXXXXX

_It was dark outside, and the clock on the wall showed that it was ridiculously early in the morning. _

_Raven couldn't sleep. _

_So she padded down the stairs quietly and decided a glass of milk would help. _

_The milk in the fridge was Charles's. He was annoyingly and strangely possessive about his milk- which led Erik to, several times, make some very obscene and inappropriate jokes about Charles's possible childhood issues. _

_Raven guiltily poured out a glass, and thankful that Charles wasn't reading her mind, she went to the hall to drink it. _

_She didn't notice Charles sitting by the fireplace at first. She headed to the fire and sat down on the soft carpet, legs crossed. _

_Until he spoke. _

_"That's mine." _

_Raven jumped, startled, and a little of the cold milk sloshing onto the carpet. _

_She grinned shamefacedly. _

_"Sorry. I couldn't sleep," she said, putting on her best "I love you please pity me" face. _

_Charles smiled indulgently, though he looked like he'd been deep in thought until Raven came to interrupt it. _

_His brown hair, almost golden-ish in the firelight, was tousled, his eyes were bright._

_He was holding something in his hands. It was a tacky toy, a miniature of that French landmark - what was it, Effie Tower. _

_"Raven, stop staring at me." Raven grinned. _

_"You've been doing the dirty with our resident brooding prince, haven't you?" she said teasingly. _

_Charles laughed. "Not exactly. I was just thinking how I ended up falling in love with him so fast, so hard,"he said, as if to himself. He looked almost bewildered. _

_"Raven, do you think it's... Weird? That, you know, me and Erik are..." he asked hesitanly. _

_Raven's mouth fell open in shock._

_"Weird? Yeah, hell yeah it's weird. Erik's all dark and tortured and filled with some crazy vengeance. You're the gentlest, calmest person I know," she said, her brows furrowed. _

_Charles looked at her, disbelieving. _

_"You're serious," he stated. Raven merely shook her head. _

_"You are totally clueless. Erik is totally not like you at all. AND he is a jerk," she huffed. "I still haven't forgiven him for stealing you away from me." _

_Charles only stared, until he realized Raven meant every word. _

_He laughed, suddenly, long and hard._

_Raven looked affronted and gulped the last of the milk. It felt good to hear him laugh though. He'd been so serious after the whole incident at the hospital. _

_Charles took Ravens hand gently. _

_"I love you kiddo. More than anything," he said softly, planting a kiss on her forehead. _

_"Yeah well not more than Erik," she grumbled. Charles chuckled. _

_"Yes, more than Erik. He's great in bed and sexy as hell but you're always here-" he put his palm over his heart. And lifting her hands he put hers over his. _

_Raven smiled, her heartstrings tugged, at the gesture. _

_"And where would Erik be then?" she teased. "Further down South?"_

_Charles blushed furiously. _

_"Well, uh, that's not really the topic I want to discuss, it's uh, private and uh, confidential."_

_She grinned. "Did he give you that?" she pointed at the toy he held. _

_"Yes, he won it for me today. At the carnival." _

_She wrinkled her nose. "It's tacky." _

_"I know. But I love him anyway. Too much," he admitted, flushing._

_Raven looked at him, and squeezing his hand, she stood up. "Well, good for you. You need to get a little rough ad tumbley between the covers. You're such a stiff." She walked out slowly, his laughter following her. _

_"I love you Raven!" he called out. _

_"Yeah yeah, love you too stick-in-the-mud," she replied, and going back to bed, her last thought was to hope Erik knew what he was getting into with Charles. _

_And vice versa. _

XXXXXX

Raven shook her head as if to clear it.

Charles looked at her, well aware of what she was thinking. He said nothing, he wasn't ready to deal with all of it yet.

Heck, he couldn't even dress himself in front of the mirror - he didn't want to see the scars left by Shaw. There was one, right across his back, which was given to him when Shaw lashed his back with a whip. There were others, given to him when Shaw burnt him with cigarettes, or an iron poker, in an attempt to use pain to break through his walls of control.

None on his face, for Shaw had been careful not to mar his perfect face.

Charles banished his dark thoughts to some hidden corner in his mind. He wouldn't allow himself to indulge in self pity.

"Raven, why don't you take Red with you to practice later?" he suggested. "I need to sleep. I didn't sleep well last night."

He had not slept well for many nights.

Raven knew, so she nodded and did as she was told. When he's ready, she thought, we'll talk.

Charles watched her leave and slowly went upstairs, where he drew his curtains shut and sat at the edge of his bed, brooding. He slowly shrugged off his shirt, and sat there thinking in the dark.

He didn't notice the door open at first, until a figure stood before him.

It was Erik, topless and smelling fresh from the showers. He had gone for a run and had wanted - well, he wanted to go to Charles's bed and smell his pillows and lie there in his scent. It was freaky, and not to mention very embarrassing. Erik had not expected to see Charles there.

Charles looked up, surprised. "Erik?"

Erik slowly went down on his knees, putting himself between Charles legs, and gently kissed Charles's bare chest, right below his heart.

Charles flinched, but didn't pull away.

Erik gently rested his cheeks on Charles's thighs. He wanted to say something, but he didn't. He wanted to take his lover to bed but he didn't.

He nuzzled in his lover's warmth for a while, until he felt a hand gently stroke his hair. He looked up, and saw Charles staring him. The blue eyes that haunted his dreams were longing, but frightened.

Erik got up, and very, _very_ gently, pushed Charles on his back.

The smaller man was trembling slightly, but there was desire lit his eyes.

"Erik, don't - don't turn on the lights okay."

Erik always made love to him with every light on, with curtains thrown wide open. His excuse? He wanted to see every inch of Charles body.

Erik stopped. He nodded, and softly trailed kisses on Charles's face and neck. He took his time to reassure Charles that he wouldn't rush anything.

It was the first time he had laid hands on Charles in months, save for the occasional back rub and even then it was not skin to skin.

He took a long time just stroking, touching, kissing. Charles began to breathe faster, and his body relaxed. Erik, encouraged, moved downwards. That was when Charles cried out, and pulled away.

Erik grimaced, agony clear on his face.

"My love, please- " that was when he saw the scars on Charles back.

He gasped and his long fingers reached out to touch the livid red marks on the white back. Charles stiffened.

"Erik, don't. I don't want you to see me. Please go."

Erik shook his head stubbornly.

"No. No I won't go away."

He wrapped his arms around Charles, who tried to struggle away but Erik held fast.

"Please Charles, I need you to be you again. Please come back to me," whispered Erik.

Charles let out a choked sob. "I can't."

"Yes you can! You have to!" Erik said, gritting his teeth.

"How can I? Look at me. I'm broken. I can't be whole again for you," Charles choked out.

"I need you, I always will. I don't care about what you look like."

Charles said nothing. He turned his face away as Erik reached to stroke his cheeks.

"Okay I lied. I must admit your body drives me crazy. And also, you're very pretty," Erik deadpanned.

Charles managed a small smile.

"You said you'd love me even if I were fat," he said.

Erik gently nosed at the nape of his neck.

"I'd love you even if you looked like the Incredible Hulk," he replied.

"No, you wouldn't," whispered Charles, but he relaxed against Erik's firm grip.

Erik, sensing an opening, took the opportunity to dive in, and savor the soft butterscotch skin he'd been lusting for for weeks.

Undaunted by Charles half-hearted struggles he worked his way down to Charles collarbone, then his chest, and taking a nipple in his mouth he gently nibbled at it, his desire for one wild moment nearly undoing him entirely.

Erik paused, taking a deep breath, and forced himself to be gentle. He stroked the pale skin, running his fingers up and down the slender arms, the faint hint of ribcage as Charles began to breathe heavily.

With one swift, strong movement, he carried Charles to the bed.

Laying him down on the soft covers, Erik almost lost his control when he saw the fear, the revulsion and the abject longing in Charles eyes.

The telepath was scared, uncertain, but the love he had for Erik forced him to be calm, to not take to his heels and flee.

Erik, foe the first time, did not know how to make love to the man who lay before him, whose brown hair spread like a soft rug over the white pillows, whose blue eyes were bright with a million emotions.

He didn't know how to touch this skittish man, this vulnerable body whose lean legs and slim torso heaved, both with fear and lust.

So he didn't.

Erik found strength in him he did not know.

Bending forward he caught Charles's lower lip in his, gently sucking on it. He pushed his tongue into Charles mouth- testing, tasting.

Charles trembled as Erik's hands reached down, but Erik stayed away from his core, painstakingly concentrating on his face, his neck and his shoulders, for what seemed like forever.

After all of forever, Erik stopped, and lay down beside him, his arms still encircling Charles.

Comforted, grateful, Charles curled up against the strong chest, his fine hair tickling Erik's chest.

Erik, unable to resist, buried his nose in the same soft hair, taking in that citrus scent he had missed, so much.

"Charles," began Erik, his voice barely above a whisper. "I will wait for you. Whenever you're ready, I will be there for you. I will wait forever for you."

Overcome, Charles nodded.

"Thank you."

Erik hesitated.

"But are you sure I uh, can't uh, get some, uh, never mind. Coz you know. Uh, I'm kind of - you know."

Charles looked at the blushing face and for the first time since his ordeal, he laughed. A small one, not the rolling, boisterous ones he used to have, but it was a start.

"I thought you said you'd wait," he chided.

Erik looked guilty. "I was hoping that saying that might compel you to you know, do stuff."

Charles looked at the steel grey eyes, the firm chin, the strong jaw.

"Erik," he breathed. "If you're gentle I might - I might - do stuff. Slowly."

Erik looked at him, not daring to hope too much.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. But slowly."

Erik nodded, and returned to the spot where he knew Charles found pleasure from. Gently sucking and nibbling just above his collarbone, Erik focused all his energy there.

Drawing a sharp breath, Charles willed his body to relax. Memories of Shaw flashed through his mind but he reminded himself that it was Erik who was with him.

Erik moved down to his stomach, getting closer to where he had wanted to go. Charles stiffened but Erik held him, saying "Charles, please, I won't hurt you. Please. Let me love you."

Charles relaxed slightly and Erik took the chance to envelop Charles entirely in his mouth.

Crying out, his back arched, Charles fought back twin emotions of fear and arousal. His hands reached down to push Erik away, but Erik was undaunted. All he wanted to do was to give Charles every pleasure he could.

So he did.

With his wicked tongue, he did things to Charles that left Charles gasping for breath. His hands were everywhere it seemed, impossibly everywhere. And as he carefully, slowly, used his mouth to stroke Charles to compete arousal, Charles thrashed, fighting against wanting more and wanting to run away.

And when Erik inserted just one finger inside him, Charles screamed, and with strength born of panic, kicked out at Erik, who dodged barely.

Jumping out of the bed, Charles backed into the corner of the room, his back to the wall, his entire body shaking. Erik, whose own arousal was threatening to literally, kill him, got up, and reached out, but Charles stared as if he were a monster.

"No, god no. I'm so sorry, please, I can't, I just can't! I can't stop thinking of how he – of how he – Fuck!" Charles swore, hitting his own head with the palms of his hands. Sinking to his knees, Charles hugged himself, rocking back and forth as he struggled to gain control.

He couldn't.

Memories blasted into Erik's mind – Shaw's cold, clammy fingers cruelly pushing into Charles' opening; the other hand inside Charles' mouth, forcing him to suck on them.

"NO!" shouted Erik, as he grabbed Charles. Holding him close, Erik stroked his hair, crooning softly and making small, comforting sounds. He rejected the thoughts that were being projected in his mind – Shaw's hard, throbbing member, Shaw's slimy tongue – and focused on just holding on to Charles until he regained control.

When the body in his arms finally stopped trembling, Erik dived in. Kissing Charles furiously, he left Charles with no options. He put everything he had in that kiss. He crushed his lips against Charles, as if trying to crush out the memory of Shaw.

"You have to forget him, Charles, you have to let me help you forget him," Erik whispered into his ear. He didn't wait for an answer – it was not up for discussion this time. He brought Charles back to an arousal simply with his hands. Protests were smothered by kisses, and he kept whispering his own name in Charles' ears. He moved swiftly, silencing Charles' cries of panic and pain as he pushed his fingers inside Charles.

Even as Charles struggled, Erik held him fast, his larger frame easily overpowering the smaller man. "Don't fight me Charles, it's me, it's Erik, please, let me love you," he whispered over and over. Charles fought back tears, but he wanted Erik so much. Erik's heat was like oxygen to him, but his lungs felt constricted. He struggled hard against his panic, against the fear Shaw put in him.

He wanted Erik, so much, but yet every inch of him screamed to throw him off.

He very nearly did when Erik slipped himself inside. First only a little, then he pushed further in, burying himself to the hilt. Charles cried out, tried to get away, but Erik's lips were on his shoulder blades, kissing, nibbling at the skin. "It's me, it's your Erik, please Charles, please relax," Erik pleaded.

Charles squeezed his eyes shut, as he tried to relax. No sooner than he did, Erik began to move, slowly, pulling out and thrusting deeply again, over and over. All the while Erik spoke to him, calling his name, telling him that Shaw was dead, and would stay dead – that he needn't fear him anymore.

Charles breathed, hard, the familiar scent of pure masculinity that was Erik filling his senses. He felt Erik's hardness, inside him, and felt the release which would soon come to Erik. He gasped, and cried out for his lover.

"Erik!" Charles gasped, over and over as Erik thrust; slowly, deeply. With a shout, Erik finally came, deep inside Charles. Erik's entire frame shuddered with release, every desire he had pent up for weeks finally fulfilled.

Charles's eyes were filled with tears, but he blinked them away furiously. He couldn't bring himself to say anything – what could he say anyway? He curled up into himself, and said nothing more as Erik hugged him, and lifted him back to bed. Spooning him, Erik held him as he found his eyes closing.

His body felt sore, but Charles slept that day better than he'd slept in weeks.

Until the nightmares came again.


	12. Chapter 12

FOREWORD: In an attempt to make up for a long absence, I return with another chapter.

Erik woke up to a scream – but it was not his own.

Startled, groggy, Erik saw Charles thrashing, screaming, his eyes still squeezed shut. The slender hands grasped at his own neck, as if somebody was choking him. Alarmed, Erik grabbed Charles's shoulders, shaking him, yelling at him to wake up.

"Charles! Charles! Wake up!"

The blue eyes flew open, unseeing, and wildly he lashed out at Erik. Erik caught the trembling hands and hugged him close.

"Charles! Stop, it's me," he urged, stroking the soft hair. He murmured some words in German, words meant to soothe and reassure. The trembling eased, somewhat, and Charles eyes focused, taking in his lover's worried face. "Erik, oh god Erik he came for me – he came for me and he touched me and choked me –." Charles gasped, and pressed his face against Erik's hard chest. "He tried to kill me again, I couldn't stop him, I couldn't stop him…"

"Hush. It's okay. He's dead. We killed him, he won't hurt you again, he can't hurt you anymore." Charles said nothing, only pressed closer to Erik.

"Don't hurt me anymore Erik, please. I'm already broken."

The desperate plea broke Erik's heart into pieces. He knew Charles' powers had been… off, lately. He couldn't hold a psychic connection for more than a few minutes, and his control would slip, allowing thoughts and emotions to flood through him unchecked.

In the relative emptiness of the mansion, that was fine. But when Charles went out, the loss of control came with inexplicable pain, as if his brains were bursting out of his skull. Charles's powers grew erratic, sometimes his feelings were projected into others. Frustrated with his failure, Charles grew morose, moody, the few moments spent in bed with Erik werethe only times he did not pace in his room, or sit alone in the dark, apparently staring out into nothing. Charles didn't know what to do with himself – he couldn't train the kids anymore without accidentally reading their minds. He couldn't focus, he couldn't think, and he felt slow and stupid.

And then there was the fear.

He felt afraid, all the time. He jumped at his shadow, he was edgy and skittish, and every sound he heard – a rustle in the bushes, the whistle of the faraway wind—he felt afraid. His night were plagued by nightmares, of Shaw returning to harm him, of Shaw killing everyone, _everyone. _He found temporary respite in Erik's arms but even then, nothing was the same anymore.

Lately, save Raven, the rest of the kids were nervous to be around him. They avoided him in hallways, and quietly went about their business, led mostly by Raven, who had taken charge of their training for a while. She always ended up in a fistfight with Alex, or smacking Hank in the face, but they had no choice. They would bring food to him sometimes, and tried to urge him to eat.

But food tasted like ash to him. He couldn't swallow anything more than a slice of bread here, or a spoonful of cereal there.

The kids were worried, but they had no way of helping him save for silently supporting him as much as they could. Alex took to making waffles, but it didn't work out very well.

Red had been the quietest all the while, but he loved the Professor like he would a father. When his memories were wiped, he had felt a loss, as if he were an orphan. The mere sight of Charles (it was Raven) jogged most of his memories back.

Alex was a lot harder, he fought like the devil against what he was hearing from Erik and Raven, and tried to laser them into nothing, but Raven had been quick enough to pin him down and reminded him about how Charles had risked his life to break him out of prison.

Hank had seen only Raven when his memories came flooding back – he had loved her for so long every memory he had of Charles had been associated with her.

But they did not speak to Charles about it. They hadn't been able to say more than a few words each day to him. They didn't know what to do, or how to talk to this changed Professor. The Professor X they knew had been open, full of laughter, and easy to talk to.

The one that now sat in his place was solemn, melancholy, and defensive. Erik seemed the only one who could get to him, but Erik was not used to dealing with the kids – he was like the stoic and silent co-lecturer who pushed (literally) when he had to, but was hands-off all other times.

That, and he had a pretty nasty temper.

So the young mutants went about as normally as they could, keeping up appearances for the sake of it. They trained hard, they kept the household tidy (Raven was bossy enough to get them to do it) and they fed and watered themselves. Red and Alex even got weekend jobs to do their bit for the expenses. But as months went by, Charles's rare good days got rarer.

He had good days where he would come close to being almost-normal, and they would find him cooking breakfast and helping out with the training.

Then he had bad days when he did nothing but brood. Those bad days got more frequent, instead of less, as months went by. Erik couldn't understand it, but he did the best he could. He spent almost every waking moment near Charles, talking to him, trying to get Charles to do something other than stare at his hands all day.

But there was little he could do, and it seemed that nothing would get Charles to snap out of it. Until one morning, when Erik decided the time had come to get Charles to choose life, and him – or lose him forever.

XXXXX

_"Erik, pray tell- what on earth are you doing?"_

_Charles stared at his lover, who was busy knotting long strings of black velvet rope. Erik was not having an easy time of it, his hair was pushed up in spikes as he furiously tried to copy the knot illustrated on a book, which he had laid out in front of him._

_Erik didn't answer immediately, he merely clenched his jaw and continued to tackle the ropes._

_Charles cocked his head to one side, and swore he saw actually Erik smiling._

_Moving closer to him, Charles wrapped his arms around Erik from behind._

_"What are you doing?" he whispered in his ears, blowing gently with puffs of his breath. _

_Erik stopped. "Nothing."_

_"Not nothing. You've been messing around with rope since morning. It's now almost nightfall. The kids nearly killed me with their powers today, so what I need you to do is come to bed with me," Charles cajoled. _

_Erik sighed, dropped the rope. "Fine. These damned things are impossible. Why would anyone use rope when you can use a metal chain?"_

_Charles was puzzled by the odd remark but he didn't say anything. He gently nosed Erik's neck, then planting a kiss on the older, larger man's cheeks, he walked up to his room, Erik following behind._

_Erik's eyes appreciatively took in the view of Charles's lean body and perfect ass (if a man can't appreciate something beautiful, then what's the point eh?)._

_As Charles entered his room, he suddenly spotted something on the bed._

_Metal chains. Fine, thin and long stainless steel chains._

_From the doorway came Erik's voice, a smugness to it._

_"Metal, see?"_

_Charles turned around puzzled, opened his mouth to ask what on earth was Erik intending to do with the chains-_

_And then the chains wrapped themselves around his wrists, his waist, and his ankles. With a powerful tug, the chains forced him onto the bed, pinning him down, and spreading his legs open. His arms were pulled up over his head, and tied together. _

_Crying out in surprise, Charles struggled against the chains but Erik's control was impeccable._

_"Erik, let me go. I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't appreciate being tied up like this -" he stopped short when Erik straddled him, and undressed him slowly._

_"Sure thing Charles, once I have my way with you, of course."_

_Charles growled. "Erik, I'm not going to be trussed up like an animal."_

_"Don't care. I want you helpless when I make you scream."_

_"I'm already helpless when you touch me, no need to tie me," protested Charles. Erik shook his head, reached his tongue out to lick a nipple._

_"Nuh uh. I like you like this." He reached down, his hands gently stroking Charles growing arousal. "Besides, how often do I get you spread open for me, inviting me in like this? I usually have to work so hard before I have you crying out for me, wanting me inside you."_

_Erik unbuttoned his trousers, pulled down the zip and pushed away the last remaining piece of clothing between him and where he wanted to go._

_"This time, you're all mine," Erik growled, his voice muffled as he left little bite marks all over Charles's inner thighs. _

_Charles saw how excited Erik was, his erection making him gulp. He was equally as aroused, but also scared - Erik's powers went crazy during sex. Light fixtures would tremble, metal pieces rattle... What if the metal chains cut through his skin when Erik reaches his climax?_

_Then he realised that Erik probably wanted just that to happen, and a sliver of apprehension went through him._

_He opened his mouth to voice out his concerns, but never managed to as Erik's tongue began to stroke his erection, up and down, teeth scraping slightly against sensitive, heated skin. _

_He arched, gasped, and the chains tightened on him, slightly. _

_His legs felt weak as Erik spent a long while just giving him pleasure with his mouth and tongue. _

_Pleasure drove everything out of Charles's mind as all the heat in his body seemed to pool right where Erik's dark head was bobbing up and down, doing things that made Charles moan wantonly._

_"God, Erik, I'm going to -"_

_"Do it."_

_Charles cried out and came, straight inside Erik's mouth. He was surprised when Erik swallowed and wiped his mouth with his hands. Some of Charles's release had landed just below Erik's lips - the sight of it both shamed and aroused Charles. _

_"Erik-" "Hush. Now it's my turn."_

_Without even touching Charles, Erik controlled the metal chains to lift Charles's legs in the air, where the sight of the telepath vulnerable, aroused, inviting, sent Erik over the edge._

_Plunging deeply, he let out a groan of release at the same time Charles cried out with the first pain. It always hurt, it always felt awful at first thrust, until friction and heat took over and made the sensation, while not comfortable, at least bearable, and eventually pleasurable._

_Pounding into Charles, Erik grunted with effort, relishing the tight heat, the panting sighs that escaped Charles's lips. The metal chains continued to tighten around Charles, biting into his skin, but not hard enough to draw blood as Erik thrust, seeking his climax._

_Charles let out a hiss of pain when the chains around his wrists finally cut his skin, and drew a small bead of blood. _

_Hearing it, Erik paused, withdrew and with effort, regained control. The metal binds loosened slightly. "Do -do you want me to release you?" Erik panted. His eyes were literally black with lust, his hardness throbbing painfully._

_Charles felt like a fire had gone off in his stomach._

_"No," he said, inclined to regret it until he saw that Erik was pleased at his decision._

_Erik brought his lips to Charles's, kissing him hard, and bit his neck playfully before once again plunging himself inside his lover's depths. _

_Charles felt Erik give him a hickey as his hips continued to thrust. After an impossibly long time, Erik's movements quickened, became erratic as he neared his peak._

_Charles pushed himself forward, inviting Erik to come deeper inside._

_"Charles! Fuck! Don't do that! I'll -"_

_"Do it," Charles said, like Erik had._

_Erik needed no further encouragement as he gave the last few hard, frantic thrusts and finally came with a shout, his manhood wedged deep._

_At that exact moment, the metal chains tightened hard enough to cut, leaving angry red marks on his ankles and wrists. _

_Charles shut his eyes and winced at the pain but Erik, his body completely at ease from his orgasm, began landing small kisses everywhere on Charles body, as if apologising._

_"Mmm," Erik murmured contentedly. "Sorry about the metal chains... I wanted to use velvet rope. But I do my best work with metal."_

_Charles sighed. "I know."_

_Erik grinned. "So you don't mind being tied up then? Tied up and properly ravished? We could do it again if you like. Maybe I might even blindfold you..."_

_Charles rolled his eyes. "Don't even think about it." But an image flashed through his mind, him helplessly writhing against Erik's hard body, unable to see but able to feel and hear everything..._

_Erik laughed. "Liar. You're turned on just thinking about it." His wicked hands went down for a quick grope._

_Charles wriggled away, huffing._

_He forgot the metal chains were still on him, though, and Erik merely pulled him back into submission. _

_Erik forced his lips apart with a thumb, his fingers clutching the side of his cheeks almost painfully. Putting two fingers inside Charles mouth he bid Charles to suck on them, which Charles did, his blue eyes locked into Erik's blue-grey ones. _

_Erik watched as Charles sucked his fingers with an expression of both innocence and seduction. He groaned as Charles pink tongue darted out to lick, then used his mouth to take his fingers in again._

_He let out a surprised cry when Charles bit, hard._

_"Damn it!" he swore, pulling his fingers away. "That hurt-"_

_He saw the smug expression on Charles face, and growled. _

_"Oh, I see. Tit for tat, huh. Well, let me tell you something, Professor. Only I get to bite," he said, his tone low._

_With a snarl, Erik went for his neck, left a very obvious hickey there, and moved on to his exposed white throat, then his nipples, and his hipbone. _

_Charles didn't even bother to struggle, quite enjoying the small frissons of pain, followed by pleasure. _

_Pretty soon, he found himself with his legs in the air again, letting Erik take him again, though more slowly. _

_This time, they came together._

XXXXXXX

Charles wished he could remember what making love to Erik used to feel like. Memories haunted him, of what used to be, and he clutched desperately to them. He wanted so much to come out of the darkness that plagued him, but he couldn't bring himself to.

_It used to be Erik whose darkness threatened to kill him, but now my own battles with darkness is being lost - I am an untrained soldier going in with no shield and no sword into a war I am hopelessly outmatched. Erik was right; I know nothing of the cruelties of the world – until I had my first taste of it at the hands of Sebastian Shaw._

Charles was about to sink into his depression again when Erik burst into the room. He threw open the curtains, flooding the dark room with light. Blinking at the sudden brightness Charles gaped at Erik.

"Erik what are you-?"

"I'm going to give you a choice," interrupted Erik, his voice hard. He positioned himself in front of the windows. He made a gesture, and the glass panes shattered as the metal railings crumpled into itself. Charles jumped at the noise, and cried out.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. Erik looked at him, his eyes stormy. Erik took a step too close to the edge. "Making you choose. Life with all of us – with me—or death. My death."

Charles jumped up, tried to get to him but Erik stepped back, now merely an inch away from the ledge.

"NO! I need you to choose! I need you to come back to me!" Erik shouted. He stood precariously at the edge. Charles grimaced. "Erik, please. Come away from the ledge."

"Tell me that you love me."

"Of course I do, Erik, now please –."

"No. Say it."

"I love you. Please. Now get away from there."

Erik clenched his jaw. "No. You're going to have to come save me. Because if you love me, you'll find the strength I know is inside you, and you will save me."

And with that, he stepped off the ledge of the fourth floor window.


	13. Chapter 13

**FOREWORD: Hello! Here we are at Chapter 13! Just to answer some questions, I have not thought in the least how I am going to end this, nor have I thought of how many chapters this has… but I will go on as long as you wonderful, awesome people keep reviewing! Thanks everyone!**

As soon as Erik stepped off the ledge he immediately regretted his rash decision. He fell for what seemed like an eternity, yet the ground seemed to come rushing up to him awfully fast. He also didn't want to break any bones, nor smash his face in - he'd die before he admitted it but he was quite (and rightly so) vain of his looks.

He regretted it even more when he saw - his mind was so terrified that he was calm- (did that make sense?) that there was a two-foot high pile of compost right below him, which would break his fall, but he may never be able to wash the stench out later.

It was then another body came diving out the same window, and wrapped its arms around him, and together, they fell into the compost heap, breath knocked out of them, and bones jarring with the impact but otherwise no lasting damage.

Smelt like all hell though.

Erik opened his eyes (he didn't even realised he shut them) and saw Charles, his breath gasping, his eyes shut, arms so tight around him that Erik felt he couldn't breathe without cracking a rib.

The eyes flew open, blue and bright and looking like two sapphires glittering even through what looked like rotted leaves smeared all over his face. "Erik! Oh Erik!" -then -"Don't- fucking-do- that again!" Charles growled, releasing Erik from his grip and raising a fist to land a punch on the grinning face.

Erik caught the hand quite easily, and smelly rubbish be damned, kissed Charles full-on on the mouth.

Charles pushed him away, intending to storm off, but slipped over some greasy patch, and fell flat on his rump. Erik couldn't help it. He started laughing. Hard.

Annoyed, Charles tried to get up again but his foot caught on a rotting branch and gave way beneath him, this time he landed on his face.

Erik was practically howling with laughter now.

Charles, feeling utterly ridiculous, wanted to smack Erik hard (and not in the kinky, good kind of way) until something bubbled up in his throat - laughter.

He laughed a little roughly, as if he almost forgotten how to. Then the laughter practically turned into roars of mirth.

The kids, curious, peeked out of the window to see them both rolling in garbage and laughing their heads off. Words could not do justice to the relief and joy they felt, hearing Charles laugh again.

Helping each other up, Erik and Charles walked back into the mansion, smelling like the dead and yet smiling like they just shared a great joke.

Erik then practically dragged Charles into the showers, stripping both their stinking clothes off onto the floor and groping each other like horny teenagers as they got into the showers together.

As soon as Erik turned on the hot water, Charles took the opportunity to kiss him - a kiss that was different, as if it were the first time. Hungrily, Erik returned it, and grabbing blindly at the soap (oh god, it was that damned citrus soap), he began washing Charles's body.

Gently, he ran the soap over soft skin, the warm water washing over them both. Charles pressed himself into Erik as Erik washed his back, latching his mouth on Erik's broad, tanned shoulders. Lather washed down in delicious smoothness over Charles's fevered skin, causing his arousal to rub against Erik's thigh.

Erik chuckled, but refused to touch him where he so longed to be touched. Instead, Erik picked up the shampoo bottle and began to wash Charles's silky brown hair.

Purring, yes purring, with pleasure as Erik's long fingers rubbed his scalp, Charles shut his eyes and just took in all the sensations.

Erik continued in the same vein for a while, washing, stroking, rinsing, sneaking kisses here and there and comically blanching when he swallowed bitter soap by accident.

It was sexual, yet not. Erik did not make any move to touch his nether regions, instead, Erik simply concentrated on washing away all of Charles's fears and worries for what seemed like forever.

It was that moment that Charles fell in love all over again with Erik, as if seeing him for the first time in months. He relished the non-intrusive way Erik washed him, yes, even way down there, for Erik was gentle, merely fondling him enough to stroke him to a slow, intimate release - but he didn't ask for it to be returned in kind.

Charles decided he would anyway. Taking Erik in his hands he did the same for the taller man, and was pleased to hear Erik's breath quicken and feel his manhood leap to eager attention.

Charles stroked quickly, his hands slippery with soap, Erik's nails digging painfully in his hair and on the small of his back.

When Erik came with a grunt, Charles let out a satisfied sigh. He reached out, and turned off the showers. Dripping, he led Erik out of the shower, and grabbing a thick, fluffy towel, he dried Erik's hair, standing on his tip toes, and then rubbed the towel deliciously down Erik's Greek-god body, down the impossibly long legs. Erik said nothing, only stared at him with eyes that blazed with love and lust.

Then Erik, not even bothering with drying his lover's body or hair, simply picked him up, and tossed him onto to a broad, long couch.

Charles gave a rather unmanly squeak, then cleared his throat.

"Uhm, Erik, my hair is all wet and uhm, I don't wanna -"

"Uh huh." Ignoring Charles completely, Erik placed himself over Charles, his towering height dominating the slender body beneath him.

"I'm not ready - you haven't even got the lube- I don't think we should -" Charles spluttered, gasped as Erik nibbled his nipples.

Erik paused, an exasperated look on his handsome face. "Charles. Seriously. I just bathed you, washed you, and didn't so much as fuck you senseless in the bathroom. Count yourself lucky."

Charles pouted at Erik. "Well, I want you to just hold me for a while. I don't want to have, you know, sex, right now."

"Its not sex," Erik said flatly. "It's fucking-you-until-you-scream."

Charles gaped at Erik. "Its my body, don't I get a say in this? I'm still... r-r- recovering," he stammered. Erik paused for a brief second, then he shrugged.

"No, not really," he moved closer, and took a nibble at Charles's earlobe. "As you can probably tell, I'm hard. Painfully so. And if I don't get to come inside you, I will literally go crazy."

The hot mouth moved to his neck, and then latched on to a chosen spot, and there was a sweet pain there. Erik lingered for a while, then he licked right above Charles's collarbone, a spot he knew was guaranteed to get a reaction from the telepath. It did.

Charles moaned wantonly, then stopped himself as Erik chuckled.

"Don't want to have sex, eh? Looks like you do." Charles blushed, turned away, biting his lips.

"Well my body is still stronger than my mind," he muttered, slightly sullenly. Erik raised his eyebrows a fraction.

"Charles, look at me." Charles turned to look into the steel-blue eyes.

"Your powers will come back to you. You suffered a great trauma, and anyone, mutant or otherwise, would not expect you to be alright overnight. So why don't you try reading my mind for a while, see what you find?" he said, gently.

Charles frowned. " I promised never to read your mind," he protested.

"Well, I'm asking you to. Big difference."

Charles hesitantly put his fingers to his temples, and concentrated hard. He pushed through Erik's defenses easily, and delved deeply into his mind. What he found there brought tears to his eyes, unbidden.

Love. Nothing but love and desire and want and longing. Erik's very soul belonged to him, every fibre of his being belonged to him. Erik was uncertain at times, rough, clumsy, sometimes pushy and demanding, but he loved Charles so much it could only be described as a permanent ache in his heart.

Charles gave a gasping sob, and pulled away. He looked into Erik's frightened eyes - Erik had laid his soul bare to his psychic powers and now was unsure if the intensity of his love would drive Charles away.

Charles couldn't speak, so he didn't. He brought his lips to Erik's and kissed him hard enough to bruise.

All reservations forgotten, he hungrily kissed and bit and licked and touched, primal lust taking over him.

"Erik I love you too, I love you more than anything, love you love you so much -" he broke off to let Erik push his tongue inside his mouth.

They kissed until they could not breathe, then an animal-like lust took them both and Erik was on him, inside him, thrusting like a man possessed, hurting him but the friction felt so good -

"Erik! Oh fuck! Harder! Please!" Charles arched his back, thrusting his hips forward for more.

Erik snarled, pulled out only to force Charles onto his hands and knees, then rammed into him from behind.

Charles cried out at the pain, but he couldn't possibly stop now, not when his own release was so near - Erik's hands were skillful, hot, stroking him fast and hard -

"Charles, come with me," Erik ordered harshly, his own climax close.

Charles's only answer was a long sigh, and then a sharp cry as Erik thrust frantically just a few more times, and came deep inside as Charles came all over the sheets.

Erik collapsed on top of Charles, his heavy, hard body crushing the slender, slight frame beneath.

Charles wriggled uncomfortably, and Erik shifted to his side, wrapping Charles in his arms. A nose nuzzled, lips gently pecked Charles's neck.

"Erik?"

"Mmm?" Erik was humming contentedly.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

"I love you."

"I know."

"You will stay with me?"

"Yes."

"And never leave me?"

"Never."

"I love you."

Erik smiled, stroked the still-wet hair. "I love you too."

Charles grinned. "Why Erik Lehnsherr, you're practically a sap."

Erik growled playfully. "Yeah yeah."

His expression turned serious suddenly. "Did I hurt you, Charles?"

Charles turned around to face him, and ran a finger down Erik's chest. "A little. But you can't hurt me, not like -," he broke off, gulped. "Not like he did."

Charles shut his eyes, and drew a shuddering breath. "Erik, Shaw raped me. Many times. He touched me where only you have ever touched, and he did things to me, put things i-inside me that h-hurt."

"I couldn't stop him, and I still feel him sometimes when I have nightmares. He did things to me I can't even speak of."

Erik grimaced, but said nothing, merely held Charles closer to him.

"He tried to put a-a-," Charles broke off, pressing his face against Erik.

Erik hushed him. "Shhh. Never mind, it's okay, you don't have to tell me."

Charles breathed in the scent that was Erik - a vanilla musk that sent shivers down to his groin. He trembled, a little, and fell silent as Erik continue to soothe and stroke.

When Charles finally fell asleep, no more nightmares came.

XXXXXXX

Erik woke up, for the first time, to Charles's carefully ministered kisses.

Yelping in surprise as Charles bit his nipples, Erik rolled away as Charles grinned. "Surprise!"

Erik made a strange noise. "What are you doing?" he demanded, groggily.

"Why, I'm just doing to you what you always do to me," he answered, all innocence.

Erik spluttered. "I just woke up and my breath stinks and god, what the hell?"

Charles blinked his baby blues with even more innocence, if that were even possible. "But I'm horny."

Erik gave a strangled sound that sounded suspiciously like "What the fuck" and rushed to the bathroom, as Charles's laughter pealed out in the room.

The sound of the tap gushing, then brushing of teeth, then Erik, in all his naked glory, stood by the door. "Goddamn it Charles," he grumbled. "If you wanted a morning quickie all you need to do was ask."

Charles only grinned as Erik walked towards him and pushed him down on to the bed.

"I love to have you in the morning but don't surprise me like that," Erik murmured against Charles's hair.

"Well, I thought I'd surprise you," answered Charles breathlessly. "Take charge for once."

Erik stopped, surprised. "Well well. A pushy and demanding Charles. Its's quite... interesting."

Charles boldly reached down, grinning with satisfaction when Erik hissed, and groaned. Charles quickly stroked Erik to a writhing mess, before taking Erik inside his mouth. Erik could only moan as Charles did amazing things with his tongue and lips.

When Erik came, with a shout, Charles swallowed, and then licked away what remained gently.

"Good god Charles, that was amazing."

Charles smiled, suddenly shy. "I wasn't so sure I was doing it right, you are always so much better at that-"

Erik kissed him. "You were amazing."

Charles grinned. "Okay. Now get dressed. I'm making omelettes for breakfast!"

_Uh oh. _

XXXX

Raven, shadowed closely by Red and Hank (Alex was still rolling in bed), poked their heads through a small gap in the half-closed kitchen door. Curious, they peered inside the kitchen, where they saw Charles struggling with the frying pan as Erik cuddled him from behind.

She smiled when she heard laughter from both of them, as Charles smacked Erik in the nose with the wooden ladle, bits of uncooked egg still smeared on it.

She watched as they teased each other, as if they were just a normal couple preparing breakfast for their kids.

As if Charles did not just spend three months in a deep funk, after being raped, starved, tortured and beaten to within an inch of his life for three weeks. As if Erik did not kill the man who did that by splitting the man's body into three parts. As if everything was normal, just for a short while.

But it wasn't, really, and they were about to find that out soon enough.


	14. Chapter 14

**FOREWORD: More Something Big was Going Down here where I am, so yet again, I am late with an update. But! It is long, and sexy, and slightly – oh who am I kidding – VERY smutty. Warnings apply. I just realised from my first slightly-negative review (was it? I don't know, but it's much appreciated all the same) that not everyone would be reading this knowing full well what it contains. So warnings: rough sex, **_**explicit**_** rough sex, and slash. Please look away if you feel slash is icky. Or you know, are not into man-on-man lovin'. **

The television was blaring when Erik walked into the room that morning. Some guy with a bad toupee was saying something quite worrying, it would seem, for Charles was frowning at the screen.

He was also absentmindedly tugging at the hem of his sweater, and his palor was pale.

"A murder of three teenagers has shaken this sleepy town out of it's idyllic setting... Police are on the hunt for the murderer... The three teenagers are believed to be victims of a hate crime for each of them had strange tattoos and markings resembling animals on their bodies..."

Erik stood behind Charles, who instinctively reached out for his lover.

"I felt them die yesterday, Erik. Mutants. They were so young..." he whispered. "Someone cut them up quite badly. A human."

Erik's eyes widened. "Human? Humans are killing mutants? Impossible."

Charles shook his head. "Not so. These three mutants were young, their powers not fully developed."

Charles got up, began to pace.

"I'm worried, Erik. How did the human know they were mutants? Other than their fanciful tattoos they were ordinary-looking, like me or you. This human, I touched his mind briefly. It was so filled with revulsion, Erik. I tried to look deeper but I couldn't stand it."

Charles rubbed his forehead.

"He hates mutants. He knows we exist. He wants to find us all and kill us."

Erik clenched his jaw. "Well he won't find us."

Charles bit his lower lip. "I wouldn't be too sure about that my love. His mind.. Was not an ordinary mind. He knows what we mutants are capable of and the three young ones were just practice for him. He will find us. He knows we're here."

Erik growled. "Nobody knows we're here." He froze when he saw Charles's stricken face.

"Somebody does Erik. One of Shaw's henchmen was human. He knew what Shaw was and what Shaw was doing. He had access to all of Shaw's files. He disappeared just before you came to rescue me."

Erik groaned. "Don't say that name so often. What do you mean Shaw had a human in his gang of mooks?"

Charles frowned. "What's a mook- never mind. Shaw had a human with him, a human who had a daughter who was a mutant. He killed her, I saw it in his mind when he came to give me food once. She looked much like Angel except -"

He broke off, pain squeezing his heart when he remembered how Angel had died, trying to stop Shaw from getting to him.

Erik gently stroked Charles's cheeks. "It's okay."

Charles took a deep breath. "His name was Stryker, I think. He was so filled with hate and senseless anger. I could literally feel it rolling out of him."

Charles began pacing back and forth.

"He'll come for us. When we least expect it."

Erik was silent. He grabbed Charles by the shoulders suddenly. "He won't. Because we won't be here. I know a place we can hide, for a while, just until we find this Stryker guy and we can put him out of his misery."

Charles shook his head, No.

"He will find us anyway. He has something that he uses, a machine of some sort, which he can find every mutant out there. I can feel it reaching inside my mind sometimes. I don't how he is using it, or if he has a mutant who has joined his cause."

Erik growled at that idea- a mutant working for a human to hunt down mutants.

Just then, a small rustle by the slightly-ajar door.

Erik snarled, pulled the door open from where he was standing, and all four young mutants tumbled over each other in a heap.

Red had the decency to look sheepish, but the rest merely looked solemn.

Erik bared his teeth at them, annoyed. "Kids shouldn't be eavesdropping on adult conversations," he rebuked. "Get back to your rooms before I make all of you regret it."

Red went red, spluttering with shame, while Raven stared brazenly at the seething Erik.

"You're not the boss of me. Charles?" she looked straight at him, daring him to defend her.

Charles sighed. He had too many things on his mind to care about Raven and her animosity towards Erik.

"If you both don't get over yourselves, I will, and I mean it, paralyse you both inside your rooms for the rest of the day," he snapped. "I can and I will do it, don't think I won't."

Raven blanched. "That. Is cruel and unusual punishment."

"You are both cruel and unusual people," he retorted. He turned to Erik and said quietly "They need to know."

Raven made a "meh" gesture.

"We already do. We heard everything. Question is what are we going to do about it?"

Charles blinked, then nodded grimly.

"One or two of us have to keep watch in turns. We can't all be asleep when he comes." They all nodded though he saw Erik rolling his eyes.

"Erik. I'm the leader here," he snapped. "Don't roll your eyes."

Erik looked affronted. "Didn't say a word."

Charles scowled. "I know what you were thinking."

Erik had been thinking _"Oh great. Less sex time, more Charles-is-bossy time."_ He straightened his face into one of angelic innocence.

Charles huffed, and began to lay out plans on who will take the first shift. It was agreed that Raven and Hank would be first, followed by Red and Alex and then Erik and himself.

He pretended he did not see the smirk on Erik's face.

"Professor?"

"Yes Alex?"

"Red bugs me."

Charles laughed. "I know. I figured that way, both of you can keep each other awake."

Charles ruffled Red's auburn man fondly. "And you. Watch his back." Alex scowled as Red grinned. "Sure thing, bossman."

Raven looked at him, then with a sob suddenly she rushed and hugged him, hard.

"I'm so glad you're back," she mumbled against his shirt.

Charles softened. "I was never gone. I was just... lost for a while. I'll never leave all of you." He kissed her forehead. "Now go. Train. I want to see you guys run so fast that my eyes cross watching you guys," he joked.

They all laughed, and scampered off, pushing and teasing each other.

Charles watched them go, and was very aware of Erik's hard body at his back.

"I must say I agree with that pest sister of yours. You're quite fetching when you're all take-charge like that," he said, his voice low and seductive. Charles slapped away a sneaky hand, which had slipped in under his shirt.

"Erik. Seriously. This is no time to try to sex me up." Erik chuckled. "Not trying. Actually doing. Trying is for sissies."

His hands worked Charles's belt buckles, slipped it off, and that same hand snuck downward. Charles wriggled away, laughing.

"Bad Erik," he scolded teasingly. However, he could not hide his growing... excitement, so to speak.

Erik grinned. "Do you want me to beg?"

Charles looked intrigued. "Mmmm? That will be nice. Let me take charge for once."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I'd like to see you try. After all, you may be on top, but not necessarily in charge."

Charles mock-growled. "Oh really?" He strode up to Erik, and kissed him, roughly, passionately, dominatingly.

The domineering effect, however, was slightly lost as he had to stand on his tip-toes to reach Erik.

"Goddamn it, why are you so tall," Charles grumbled.

Erik laughed, and squeezed Charles's cheeks.

"Hey!" Charles yelped indignantly. "I'm not a kid!" He scowled and with his mind, pushed Erik onto the couch nearby. Erik gave a surprised cry, but then grinned. "Ooh."

Charles straddled him, and began to worship his lover's body with frantic, frenetic, hot kisses, until Erik succumbed and was moaning with pleasure. It was then Charles pulled away, and smiled at Erik's protests.

"Why don't you go upstairs, and take off your clothes, and wait for me on the bed?" Charles suggested, whispering in his ear, and using a bit of his powers to push Erik's mind into doing it. Erik, whose defenses had already been stripped earlier (in fact, he was so horny his basic senses had been stripped away also) nodded.

Charles watched Erik go, grinning, and went out to check on the young ones first.

They were fine. Not killing or maiming one another anyway, though Alex was having a bit of a hussy fit with Red, who was just grinning and teasing him to distraction.

Charles waved at them to carry on, left a word of advice here or there, and then went upstairs.

He had other things to... take care of.

XXXXXXX

Erik was lying there waiting for him when he got to his room. He was lying there, apparently very much ready to be dominated.

Very ready.

Charles gulped. _Maybe I bit off more than I can chew,_ he thought, then laughed internally at the perverse pun he just made. Nevertheless, he decided he would make Erik suffer a bit more.

He stood at the foot of the bed, conscious of Erik's blazing eyes on him. He returned the gaze as he slowly removed the buttons on his shirt. He popped each button agonizingly slowly, as Erik watched as if entranced.

The offending shirt was removed after too long. Erik quite expected the pants to come off next but no.

Charles decided he wanted to put on a show. A good show. A show that Erik won't forget.

So he climbed on the bed, and kneeling between Erik's open legs, he touched Erik's mind, and began to project, consciously, everything he was feeling.

Erik's mouth fell open when he felt a surge of pleasure.

"Charles what are you-"

"Shhh." Charles shook his head. "Relax."

Erik laughed. "I don't think I can."

Charles stared at him. "You must."

"You're driving me crazy. My hearts about to explode right about now. Not to mention my-"

Charles made a sound of annoyance. "Shut up."

Erik look surprised. "Charles-"

"I said shut up."

Erik opened his mouth to retort hotly when suddenly Charles began to touch himself.

All over.

Everywhere.

In places Erik didn't even know was touchable.

He gasped, his body arching as every pulse of pleasure that Charles felt, he felt.

It was the most erotic, sexual thing he'd ever experienced- but he'd be damned if he let Charles take control.

Erik wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside his lover and fuck him till he screamed.

He let Charles have his way for a while, but when Charles starting to touch himself right where Erik lay claim, Erik shot up and grabbed him, pushing him down on his face and stomach roughly, groaning as Charles yelped in surprise.

"Erik! No! I told you I'd -"

"Fuck that."

Erik sucked two fingers perfunctorily, and pushed them inside Charles.

"Erik! No!" Charles tied to squirm away from under Erik's heavy hand, pressing on his back, but Erik only snarled and gripped his hair painfully.

"You don't get to dominate me Charles," he whispered. "You're mine.

"And I want you. I want to pound into you until all you can feel is me. Until you scream my name, over and over, like you do when I am rough with you. I want to hear your pain. I can't control myself all the time when I'm with you," Erik murmured in his ear.

Charles shuddered, but didn't say a word. He couldn't. All he could feel, and smell, and sense, was Erik. And when Erik moved in him, he lost himself entirely, screaming out his name over and over… just like Erik wanted.

The trouble brewing outside the bedroom walls could wait… for a while.


	15. Chapter 15

**FOREWORD: It's been too long since my last update, hasn't it? So it was one Pretty Big Sh*t after another and so my writing had to take a back seat. Since my job is actually writing (yes, I know, it's horrible when your hobby becomes your source of income) I suffered from crippling writing fatigue. I kid you not. Anyway, here goes, BIG PLOT POINT and the usual warnings apply: I don't own the characters and don't make money writing about them and no graphic slash in this chapter, only some pretty graphic Eye Scream (Tropers among you will know what I mean ;p). Also, YMMV yes? Coz there's Ho Yay in spades. (For the uninformed, go to )**

The troubles outside the walls, as it turns out, could not wait.

So the troubles came to seek them out, as they slept- Erik in Charles's arms, Red sprawled across his Spongebob bedsheets (he gets more grief for it then it's worth really).

None of them, not even Charles, heard or felt them coming, as if a sleep-spell had been cast on them, dulling their keenest senses. As they cracked open the bolts on the doors, silently, men in dark black suits and plastic guns snaked the long corridors. They clamped thick cloths soaked in chloroform over the mouths of the sleeping teenagers first, before gathering their strength and moving towards the room where the two men slept, unsuspecting.

A man, podgier than the other sleek, army-type men, crooked a finger towards the door, signalling them to go in quietly, to take them both alive if possible.

The heavy double doors were pushed open, and in the filtered moonlight the mysterious fat man sneered at the sight of the two entwined in each others arms.

He gave another signal, and five heavily armed and armoured men padded softly to the bed, and pointed tranquilizer guns at them both.

Another finger.

The guns, made to be silent, cocked.

Then Erik, with the reflexes of a cat, jumped out of bed with a snarl, having sensed, even though dampened, immediately danger - and the lack of metal on the weapons.

Muffled shots rang out as the darts filled with a paralysing chemical sought to find target, but Erik immediately sent anything metal flying across the room, deflecting the darts as he tried desperately to wake Charles and fight four men at once. Naked.

Charles felt Erik's distress, like a sharp bolt through his chest, and shot out of bed. He cried out as he saw Erik getting overpowered by four men, and immediately put his fingers to his temples, forcing the men to release his lover.

He did not see the other dark figure behind him, and he felt a sharp pain on his neck.

He froze, gave only a gasp, before falling over, unconscious.

Erik roared, tried to grab Charles, but the slight, slim man was already being carried away like a rag doll over broad shoulders.

With a cry of fear for Charles he wrenched the metal from the walls, the tables, the chairs, and everything he could lay his hands on, and directed them at the retreating figure.

The figure stopped them all with just an outstretched palm.

A telekinetic, registered Erik's mind, before something hard, something blunt, came down on his skull with a sickening thud, and his world went black.

XXXXXXXX

Erik woke up with his face on the soft carpets. A throbbing pain at the back of his head reminded him the attack last night was real. He got up, his vision spinning, and he stumbled like a drunk man to the rooms where the kids slept.

None of them were on their beds, though evidence in Raven's room showed she put up a hell of a fight. He smelled something foul, sharp, alien in the air. Chloroform, he thought. I know that smell. Shaw used to -

He shook his head.

No time. I need to find Charles.

Despite the gravity of the situation he couldn't help but think, 'why can't Charles do the saving and finding once in a while?'

It seems I have to save him all the time.

He decided clothes, first, however, was of importance, before going after the assailants and finding out why he was left behind.

He pulled on the first thing he found lying on the floor, and he picked up Charles's shirt, which had been folded neatly on the chair, but was now crumpled on the ground.

It was still in a better shape than the chair it was on, though.

He put the shirt to his nose, and breathed in, again, that citrus scent that he had come to recognise and love.

He indulged in a few minutes before shaking himself and berating his sappy sentimentality.

He had work to do.

XXXXXXXX

Charles woke up to a soft bed, not his own, but he was dressed in cotton and silk and his head was resting on a pillow.

His senses immediately went on overdrive. This _is not my bed. This is not my home. Where am I?_

His next thought was: _Oh fuck. Why am I always getting myself kidnapped or captured or tortured_?

"I don't torture, you know."

A voice, gravelly, rough, caused Charles to fly out of bed, and back into a wall, his fingers going to his temples immediately. His eyes widened when he realised his powers were not working.

"It doesn't work, does it? That's because he's here," the man said, gesturing to a small boy standing at the door, hands bound.

"No mutant can use his power within ten metres of him," said the fat man, his voice quite delighted.

Charles looked at the child, who looked dazed, confused, as if sedated. Needle tracks formed purple bruises on the child's arms, which were painfully thin. Charles gritted his teeth.

"He's just a child, you monster," he spat out. Charles stepped forward, but immediately, a pain so severe he fell to his knees shot through his mind, as if someone set his brain on fire.

"Tsk tsk. Coming closer to me will only hurt you. The closer you get to my little protector over there, the worse the pain's gonna' be," gloated the man in a sing song voice. "That's because no mutant can stand to be within ten feet if him too. They start to feel pain. As if their powers are eating them from inside."

Charles gasped out, the pain nearly blinding him.

"Hurts, doesn't it. Like your brain is being set on fire."

The man beckoned to the small boy, and also to two men who stood close by.

"Take my new test subject to my lab. I have big plans for him," said the man. "In fact, he won't _see_ it coming at all."

XXXXXXXX

Erik stood, hidden behind a large tree some distance away, outside a harmless- looking building which not-harmless-looking guards, parolling the gates. Which were metal, but barbed and ten feet high. He had tracked them this far, too far to get caught, so he had to be careful. Charging in alone like he would always do will probably not work.

He could hear Charles's voice in his head, telling him to stop and think before takng action.

Being a shoot first, ask questions later-kinda guy, Erik found that hard to follow.

But he could sense he was up against someone who may be even worse than Shaw.

Besides, he would be of no use to Charles dead, now would he?

XXXXXX

"Open up your eyes, Charles my sweet."

Charles didn't want to, but they were open anyway, the blue orbs exposed, pulled open with tape. His pupils were tiny pinpricks of fear, as the crazed man, now revealed to be Agent William Stryker, madman and mad scientist extraordinaire, held up a small pen-like thing.

"A bit crude, yes I know. Its just a laser. I would use much more sophisticated equipment but I'm afraid, when the objective is just to blind someone..."

He smiled. "Well, means justify the ends, all that."

Charles screamed then, as the madman lit up the slender pen, and pointed it straight into his eyeballs.

Charles thought the pain he felt at the hands of Shaw was bad. This was worse. He screamed and screamed as he saw red, blood red, and then he saw white. Just a milky whiteness, and blurry figures which he could not distinguish.

It was as if his eyes had been melted away, burnt, like wax.

The pain, was worse than the sightlessness. When his body could take no more and his brain decided it had better shut down or risk being destroyed, Charles willingly welcomed the bliss of darkness, and lost consciousness.

XXXXXXX

Erik was skirting the edge of the building when he heard the screams. His heart seized inside his chest as he knew them to be Charles. He had disposed of the two guards outside quite easily - too easily, but trap or not, he had to get inside to save Charles.

He ran quickly in the direction of the screams, found a window ajar on the second level. He debated climbing the rickety pipes, but decided against it.

Concentrating hard, he created a magnetic field beneath him, which lifted him up easily, albeit unsteadily. He had been practising this but had not told Charles until he had got it right.

He wobbled slightly, but managed to lift himself high enough to reach the window ledge, after which he climbed in, with some difficulty, his foot slipping once.

He reached an empty room - well, empty save for a cold metal table.

He looked cautiously around, but saw nothing but the metal table and tools that looked stained with something red-brown.

He really, really, hoped it was just rust.

He slowly walked across the room, avoiding jarring into anything, when he heard footsteps outside the door.

He placed himself flat on the wall, and waited.

He did not have long to wait.

The door burst open, ten men in full armor rushed in, but to his horror, he could not control the metal on their armor. He could not feel the metal in the room, only a cold chill. His eyes widened as he spied a small boy, hand tied and eyes glazed, standing behind one large, stout man whose face would best be loved only by his mother.

"Hello, Erik Lensherr. Welcome to my research facility."

XXXXXX

"Erik?"

"Yes, Charles."

"It's dark."

"Of course it is, lights are off." A sleepy chuckle, then a shuffle.

"No. I mean its dark. I can't see anything."

The note of panic in Charles usually calm voice was obvious.

"Hey, relax. I'm right here. I've got you. I can see just fine, I won't let anything come out at you," said Erik, his voice now slightly amused.

Erik nuzzled at soft, silky brown hair. He didn't know where this weird surge of love came from, but it did.

"I'll be your eyes, you know. I'll be your everything."

Charles smiled, in the dark, and snuggled closer against the broad chest.

"I know."

XXXXXXXXX

"ERIK!"

Charles wanted to rub away the milky whiteness in his eyes, but he couldn't. He could see nothing, only a fog. There was an acute silence, a silence so loud it rang in his ears. Charles thrashed, unable to see where he was and what restraints held him down.

"Erik!" he called out desperately, willing his lover to come save him, do something, take him out of here.

He felt panic, like an acid, rising in his throat as he realised he had been blinded. Completely blinded. His head felt fuzzy, possibly from the painkillers, and he stumbled, and fell, hard, onto the floor he could not see.

He cried out like an injured animal, whimpered when he felt a sharp jab on his leg, and then something warm trickling down.

He resisted the urge to start screaming, and so he used his mind, searched out for another person in the room. There was no one. He was alone.

The solitude was worse than the blindness.

He reached out with his hands, the panic now a low roaring in his brain. He ignored the urge to lie on the floor and wait for someone to kill him. _Not that'd I'd see death coming_, he thought, hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat.

He groped the floor, then slowly pushed himself up, hoping he would not hit his head on anything. His fuzziness was wearing off, but so were the painkillers. The pain in his eyes began jabbing like so many million sharp pinpricks, and he groaned.

He touched his face, gingerly, and felt a gel-like substance covering his eyes. It smelled foul.

He tried to wipe it off against his clothes but discovered he was in fact, naked.

_Great, it can't get any worse. Blind and naked as the day momma' brought me into the world_, he thought.

He stretched his arms out in front of him, and slowly began to walk forward, one small tentative step at a time. His head was swimming with the pain, but he needed to get out.

His obviously-insane plan to escape was obviously destined to fail. He bumped into something low, and nearly fell. He couldn't see anything. Something in the walls were preventing him from using his mind to see outside the walls. And to top it off, he heard footsteps.

_Yes, perhaps now is a good time to succumb to the panic_, he thought. Before he could decide whether to go ballistic or not, the door opened, and he heard many pairs of booted feet walk in.

"Charles Xavier. I believe you're looking for this!" said a sing-song voice. Charles turned his head towards the voice, and then somebody grabbed him, held him tight. He smelt vanilla, sweat, a hint of musk –

"Erik," he breathed, relief flooding him. _He will make everything alright. _

"How sweet," said the sing-song voice, in a tone that denoted he did not think it was sweet at all. "Shaw told me about you two. Well, I find the two of you fascinating. In fact, so fascinating I did an experiment on the both of you. In fact," he paused for dramatic effect. "I am going to let the both of you go."

Charles heard a sharp intake of breath, and the grip around him tightened. "What's your angle, you sick bastard," growled Erik. "Where are our students?"

"Oh they're students, are they? I thought them more as pets," the voice said, now sounding amused. "Oh come now. I don't intend to hurt any of you." He paused, as if thinking. "Well, not _badly."_

Charles felt Erik's breathing quicken, and he knew that Erik was itching to kill this man, but not while guns were pointed at him and his powers were ineffective when the child was in the room. Charles pushed aside the pain, and tried to reach into Erik's mind. He felt heaviness, a sharp stabbing pain as the child's powers blocked his, but with difficulty, he pushed through, and reached out a finger, pressing it to Erik's temples.

It was then it hit him, like a rush of colour and wind. He _saw._

He could see the entire room, the whitewashed walls, the cold metal tables, the portly man surrounded by his goons, all armed to the teeth, and he saw _himself in Erik's arms._

Charles let out a gasp.

"Erik!" he called out suddenly. His mind-vision shifted, and he was staring at his own face. He saw the white gel covering his eyes, which had turned a milky blue, wide and staring. He saw his naked body, his trembling chest.

"Erik – I'm—I can see—"

He stopped when the Stryker began to laugh, as if all his dreams had come true.

"Magnificent! I knew it would work!" he clapped his hands delightedly, and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. "Even with my little pet in the room, your minds can still connect!"

Charles understood then.

"I'm seeing through Erik's eyes," he whispered. He felt Erik jerk. "What?"

"Erik, I'm seeing myself through your eyes. I'm in your mind. I –" A thought occurred to him. Reaching out, he spread his fingers and ignoring the increasing pressure in his skull, he tapped into Stryker's mind.

A flash of red streaked across his eyes, sending unbearable pain through his mind, and he cried out.

"Ooh naughty boy! You can't do that to me!"Stryker was positively gleeful. "Why don't you try Mr Smith here instead."

Charles gritted his teeth, but he tried another mind. The same thing happened. Flash of red, and pain.

"Oh this is just _fascinating. _It's a pity though… you can't seem to do it to anyone else…" Stryker looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Would that be a _failed_ experiment then?"

He shrugged. "Oh, no matter. Kill them both please. I'm bored. I need new toys!" And with that, he turned to go out of the room.

Erik gave a shout as the men cocked their guns, pointing deadly darts at them filled with poison. Then the air rippled, as if someone had placed time in a piece of paper and crumpled it. Then it stopped, just for the barest of seconds, and the men with guns _exploded _in a rush of blood and gore.

Stryker turned around, shock widening his tiny eyes. "What—" He was to never finish the sentence.

Erik, horrified, could only watch as Stryker tried to cry out, before he too, exploded. In the background he could hear the child scream in a high pitched wail.

Charles was in Erik's arms still, but his body was still, his arms limp at the sides.

It was his eyes that burned with a ghostly glow.

"Charles! Charles stop it!" Erik shouted, shaking Charles vigorously. "Stop!"

Charles reached out to Erik's face, gripped his jaw. Erik screamed as he felt his flesh burning. "Charles! Stop!"

Charles's soft, sensual lips moved then, as he pulled Erik closer to him. "Save me," he whispered. "Please."

Then Charles stopped breathing.


	16. Chapter 16

**FOREWORD: First off, apologies for the lack of update and activity! Life caught up with me at last, and despite my most magnificent resistance I was unable to escape the swamping tide of WORK. Alas! So here, the next chapter after so, so long. I am planning on ending this story soon, and perhaps start another, so keep your eyes(?) peeled. Cheers everyone, and THANK YOU for reading. **

Charles Xavier was not a man with fears. He feared little because he knew two things: one, his abilities meant he could sense danger or ill-intent before it came sneaking up on him, and two, he could stop anyone -anything - in its tracks with his mind.

He was also not afraid of stuff because of the tall, lanky, Greek-god of a man who stood behind him, all the time, watching his back. This fine specimen of man could crush walls and tanks with his bare hands.

But Charles Xavier, telepath and one of the most powerful mutants to walk the earth, was frightened now. His palms were sweaty with it, his heart pounded like he'd run a marathon, and the pit of his stomach roiled and rebelled. Fear, coursing through his veins in the darkness, and whispering mocking things in his ear. Mocking things that sounded like the thoughts in his own mind.

He was trapped like a pig in a cage. In his own psyche, no less.

Yes, suffice to say, Charles Xavier knew fear now - crippling fear, and there was no escape in sight.

XXXXXXX

Erik Lensherr was a man with many fears. He feared the loss of control, he feared the sting of defeat, he feared the utter despair of helplessness. He also hated lizards, but that was a secret between him and those slimy little wall-crawlers.

He feared many things, and so he was constantly on his toes, mind half-awake even as he slept, his senses never dulling, his paranoia unwavering. He never let his guard down, not even for a minute, with the exception of the minutes spent inside Charles, bucking with pleasure as he claimed his lover.

Erik feared many things, but many things were also in fear of him- and he liked to keep it that way.

But for all his fears, he never knew fear when wrapped around Charles, or when his nose was buried in soft brown hair. He felt at peace, his suspicions and apprehensions gone, whenever he was in bed (or not in bed, Erik was not particularly choosy about location, it was the journey that mattered, really) with Charles.

But now, sitting next to the prone, but thankfully breathing body of Charles Xavier, he was afraid again. Afraid those blue eyes may never open, or even if they did, would never see. Doctors told him they did their best, but the fact was that they did not know what to do and why Charles was in a coma. His vitals were fine, they said. But his mind seems to have shut down in a sort of hibernation, almost.

And they can only pray that a new breakthrough in tissue regeneration research can heal his blinded, scarred eyes.

He wanted to rip metal off the walls and strangle each and every one of the quacks there but Raven had stopped him with a cool hand.

She was bruised and banged up, like the rest of the kids, but they would live. Alex was already proudly showing off the scars on his wrists where they tied him up with barbed wire.

The kid, whose powers made theirs useless, was in the mansion, safe in a room in the attic, and Hank was already at work in the lab, trying to find out what exactly this mutant was made off. The boy's name was revealed to be Jimmy, though he had no surname or a recollection of a surname.

Erik shifted in the uncomfortable chair, sighing deeply, his eyes almost closing but he didn't want to take his eyes off his Charles.

He caught himself briefly. "My" Charles? Yes, my Charles.

With that thought, Erik nodded off.

XXXXXXX

The dreams, when they came, were heated, frantic, erratic. It had no order, no aim, no destination. He felt skin on skin, but it burned like hellfire. He felt the softness of hair, but it pricked and stung like barbed wire filled with poison. He heard a gentle voice, but it sounded raucous in his ears.

Charles had never been more afraid in his entire life.

Trapped inside his own mind, he wandered, lost, grasping at straws and sand which slipped from his fingers. He called out Erik's name over and over but nobody heard. He could see everything and yet nothing.

He wandered in a vast open field of gray for months, years, it seemed. He looked for an escape, but at every turn he found memories he had thought he supressed.

His mother, a harsh foreboding creature, looming above him and wearing an expression of disappointment; his father, helpless and meek; the people whose faces twisted in fear when he seemed to know just what they were thinking.

Charles despaired soon enough. Time seemed to stand still, yet move so quickly. He felt years go by and yet no time at all had passed.

But most of all, he ached for Erik's comforting presence.

So he ran, he stumbled on dry earth (was it earth?) and continued his search for the tall, dark-haired man.

He found memories, of nights spent entwined, of days spent together, of moments of heat and passion. He held on to them, and crying, he relived them over and over, praying that soon, Erik would save him.

XXXXXXX

Erik was not a patient man.

He could not even wait for his coffee, which was why Charles always made sure (after Erik, in a fit of morning temper, had twisted the machine so hard it now rests in the basement, a sad, crumpled relic of caffeine past) he had coffee ready in a steaming mug every morning.

He couldn't wait for anything, always moving, always taking the first step, rushing headlong and recklessly into action.

But Erik was patient now.

For the past six months, he went to Charles's room in the hospital and sat next to him, reading off a dull book or just talking. About anything. And everything.

He trained the kids patiently, and under him they flourished. Charles, excellent teacher though he is, did not have Erik's reckless brilliance when it came to ways they could harness their powers.

Raven too, started to go about in her own skin, comfortable under Erik's constant reassurance she was beautiful, as she is. Having no need to pretend, Raven's agility proved miraculous.

Red even stopped bugging Alex.

Erik found himself patiently flipping pancakes, and dripping coffee. He read the papers from page to page, then went out to train the kids for a few hours, then left to have lunch by Charles's side, with strict instructions to the kids not to destroy the mansion while he was out.

While Charles's money seemed to be limitless, having no steady income bugged the hell out of Erik, who up to now, had only himself to feed- which he did in a variety of ways both legal and illegal. (Mostly illegal.)

He now had five other mouths to feed.

So he went out to find more money - the less said about it the better- working for a few nights a week, and returning with not-inconsiderable sums of money.

The kids never questioned where he went or where he did. He wouldn't tell anyway.

So it went for months, six months to be exact, and Erik began to despair that Charles would ever wake again. His ears waited to hear the soft, quiet voice. His eyes longed to see the half-smile, the blue eyes. His heart... just ached. So badly he found his pillow wet with tears in the morning.

He even found himself burying his nose in a favourite sweater Charles always wore. He was certain he would not feel normal, or complete again.

He was just about to reach breaking point, when a call at 3.12am in the morning jolted him up from his grief.

"Mr Lensherr? Mr Xavier is awake. You may come to see him now."

XXXXXXXX

Erik tore like a madman through the sterile, white hallways. His heart felt like it would implode. Joy surged through him, through the blood in his veins.

_charlescharlescharles_

His brain was on fire as he burst through the room doors, his eyes ablaze.

Charles, pale and weak-looking, was sitting up on the bed, surrounded by nurses and a doctor, who was checking his pulse. Charles turned his sightless, white-blue, opaque eyes towards the sound of slamming doors.

"Erik," he said, his voice hoarse.

At the sound of his voice, Erik let out a harsh cry- part happiness, part relief, part anguish.

With two strides, he pulled Charles into a crushing kiss, right in front of the stunned nurses, knocking aside the side table, and pushing past the doctor.

The kiss was like oxygen to a drowning man, like water to the thirsty. It was as if Erik had lived in a suffocating cocoon for the past six months and he finally clawed out to fresh air. The kiss was hungry, desperate, needy.

Erik felt Charles tense, then relax, hands flat on his hard chest. He felt Charles gently push at him, and he reluctantly tore away.

"Charles-," he wanted to say something but he broke.

Embarassed to find tears pooling in his eyes, Erik pressed his face in the curve of Charles neck, his frame heaving with gasping sobs.

"Oh god, I thought I had lost you-," he choked out as Charles gently stroked the dark hair.

The nurses and doctor stood by, allowing the two their moment, but it was all too soon that the doctor shook Erik gently, and told him he had to leave, that they need to run some tests.

But Erik wasn't having any of it.

He growled at the doctor, snarling at him in every colourful German expression he knew, until the doctor backed off in apprehension.

Charles gripped his shirt sleeve, and said gently, "Erik. Please. Let them do their jobs. Come back to me in a while."

Erik turned, struggled with his temper, and decided he'd much rather have Charles safe and sound than fling the doctor against the wall by his belt buckle. Without a word, he pressed his lips to Charles's forehead, stood up, and strode out.

XXXXXXX

"Mr Xavier, I'm afraid-."

"Just Charles, please. And I know what you are going to say." He brought his fingers up to his face, to his eyes, the slender digits ghosting over his eyelids.

"I won't see again. I know. I believe I will be quite alright."

Charles knew he would. So long as Erik was around.


	17. Chapter 17

**I am a terrible, terrible person. **  
><strong>I am. I really am. And I can only hope that in time, my beloved reviewers, that you can forgive me for this taking so so so long. My sincerest apologies. I have been... distracted. Work. Life. Heartbreak. (Some dude I liked didn't like me back). The arrival of my niece. YES, I am an Aunt now and my life is filled with babysitting, diapers and baby poop. And more work. So this is making it up to you - kinky mm smut (WARNING) and some angst and emotional outbursts. **  
><strong>(I am also working on maybe a Sherlock (as in BBC's) fanfiction, and hopefully that will be up soon.)<strong>  
><strong>Onward. :)<strong>

A pained yelp split the air, and the entire house shot up from their beds as a collective one. Hearts pounding, five pairs of feet (one pair larger, furrier and faster than the others) stumbled up and down the hallways to the huge double doors of the one man they all loved (one heart loving more than the others, in fact, that one heart loved a LOT) and banged on them frantically.  
>"CHARLES! Charles open up! What's happened?"<br>Erik growled when there was no answer from inside, just a low moaning. With a flick of his wrist, he undid the locks, and the doors flew open, to reveal Charles on the carpeted floors, bleeding profusely from his forehead, the twisted rugs guilty of tripping him over, and the low side table the culprit of his injury.  
>Erik flew to his side as Raven rushed to the adjoining bathroom for the first aid kit.<br>"Charles, are you okay?" Erik asked, low and urgent.  
>"I-I'm fine. I just didn't-didn't see the rug, or-or the table," he stammered, getting up. Erik grabbed his arms as he swayed.<br>"I'm just a bit dizzy, gosh this kind of hurts," he mumbled, reaching up to touch Erik's face. "Erik, can you just put me on the bed -"  
>Erik lifted his slight, slender lover with ease, and laid him back on the bed, propped on the pillows as Raven returned with iodine, gauze and loads of band-aids.<br>She made a move towards Charles but Erik stopped her.  
>"Let me. Why don't you kids go back, get some sleep. He'll be fine," he said, his tone brooking no argument.<br>Raven looked mutinous, but she decided that Erik was quite dangerous if argued with, and grabbing Hank's hands she flounced out in a huff. Red and Alex yawned, nodded, and went out quietly.  
>Erik stared at their retreating backs, and then turned to Charles, whose milky blue eyes blinked, and his soft lips mouthed out 'thank you.'<br>Charles had told him to send the kids out - he didn't want them seeing him helpless like that.  
>"Charles, it's okay you know, they are worried about you." Erik's tone was gentle, but it contained a mild rebuke. His long fingers reached out, swept the silky lock of hair off the pale forehead, and dipped a cotton gauze in iodine.<br>Gently, he daubed the yellow liquid on the wound, cleaning it out and dressing it carefully. All the while, Charles only laid there, silent save for his steady breathing.  
>"Charles," Erik began, a little hesitantly.<br>"Yes Erik?"  
>"We all worry about you," Erik said, though he knew he needn't worry really. Charles had returned to them, blind but seemingly more alert and powerful than before. They hadn't spoken about the incident which led to his eyes being the way they were now, because Charles couldn't remember a thing.<br>(Or at least, he claimed to have not remembered anything from the time he was captured by Stryker.)  
>Not even the part where he had turned at least ten people into minced meat with his mind alone. Erik had thanked whatever God that existed for that.<br>"Erik, I've told you. I remember pain, and a lot of blood, but I remember nothing else. I woke up in the hospital and I didn't even know what happened." Charles's voice was a touch waspish, but Erik ignored it.  
>"But doesn't that bother you?!" Erik exploded, wrenching his hands away and dumping the bloodied gauze on the floor angrily. He slammed the bottle of iodine on the table and buried his face in his hands.<br>"I thought I lost you! You had no idea what that did to me, seeing you unmoving, sleeping as if you were dead-"  
>"I don't remember! I only remember thinking that everything, everything would be alright as long as you were with me. I remember a haze, a fog of red blood, and feeling scared, but I woke up, and I don't remember what happened. I was frightened for a while, but then I saw you and it was all alright-"<br>Erik lifted his head, looked at the man he loved, and bit his lips. He struggled to regain control of himself - Charles is alive and well and thats all that matters. The time to hash things out was not now, he decided.  
>"Okay."<br>Charles cocked his head to one side. "Okay?"  
>"Okay."<br>Charles smiled, and nodded. "Good." He reached out slender fingers, splayed wide, and touched Erik's face.  
>As Erik finished putting on the band-aid, Charles gripped his forearms.<br>"Erik, may I-" he reached out to Erik's temples.  
>Erik hesitated. "Charles, you promised-"<br>"I need to see you, feel you. Please."  
>Erik sighed, and murmured his agreement. Cool fingers then pressed against his temples, and he felt a gentle push in his mind. He actually felt Charles in his head, like another soul had fused inside him. It was not unpleasant, but it felt strange, like there were two of him inside his body.<br>"Erik, go stand in front of the mirror," Charles ordered.  
>Erik frowned. "What? Why?"<br>"I want to see you."  
>"You're- what?"<br>"I can see through your eyes. What you see, I see. And right now I see me, and I can't stand it."  
>Erik gaped. "You mean-?"<br>"Yes. Now go."  
>Erik stood up, and walked to the floor length mirror. He stared at his own reflection, his grey-blue steely (and still sleepy) eyes, his lean, lanky figure, his loose pyjama pants, his bare chest. His quite impressive-<br>He heard Charles's breath hitch, and he chuckled.  
>"I can't even begin to say how strange this is-"<br>"Shh. I'm enjoying the view. Can't enjoy anything if you keep insisting in your head that you are a good-looking bastard."  
>Erik roared with laughter, and turned around to look at Charles, who was grinning from ear-to-ear.<br>"Erik. Turn back to the mirror. This is stranger for me than it is for you, I assure you."  
>With a self-satisfied smirk, Erik turned around to look in the mirror again, shifting on his feet. Five long minutes passed, and Erik huffed.<br>"How long do you want me to do this?"  
>"Shh. Bad Erik. Just stand there until I let you go."<br>Erik sighed, ran his hands through his short dark hair, but obligingly stood there.  
>"Touch yourself."<br>Erik started, turned around. "Excuse me?"  
>"Please."<br>Erik frowned, then slowly made his way to Charles's side. Moving on his knees onto the mattress, Erik straddled Charles and bent down slowly, kissing the full, red lips.  
>"Charles. I love you. But this is kinky shit even for me."<br>He said it with such a serious face that Charles couldn't help it, he started giggling.  
>"Are you serious? You've tied me up, you've spanked me, you've practically ravished me outdoors, you've groped my ass in public and not to mention that time you made me suck-"<br>"I know, damnit, but I want to touch you, not myself, goddamnit."  
>Charles reached out a little clumsily, and grabbed a tuft of Erik's hair. He pulled Erik close to him, and pitching his voice lower, he murmured, "Imagine how turned-on it would make me to see you touch yourself for me. Why, I'd be practically, positively begging for you by the time you're done."<br>Erik gulped. "Charles-"  
>"Please Erik. I'm getting hard just thinking about it..."<br>A strangled noise escaped Erik's throat and Charles grinned like the Cheshire Cat, all triumphant-like. Without another word, Erik got up, padded to the mirror, and stood there.  
>Charles gave an appreciative hum.<br>"Erik..."  
>"Yes yes, I'm on it."<br>Charles practically groaned as Erik reached down to the waistband of his pants, and let it slide to the floor. He had gone commando, as always, which evidently Charles had no objections to.  
>Staring at his reflection, knowing Charles saw everything and felt everything he felt, made certain things down South twitch.<br>He dealt with it promptly, stroking himself and biting back a moan as Charles let out a wanton cry that would make anyone blush.  
>"Erik," Charles called out. "Come to me, please."<br>Erik shook his head, gasped as he sped up his ministrations. He was close, and in his mind he could feel Charles's arousal.  
>"No. You're going to watch me come."<br>Charles growled- the man actually growled- and pushed Erik with his mind.  
>"Come here." Erik felt compelled to go to Charles, but he resisted.<br>"Nuh uh."  
>Charles groaned, used all his powers to make the stubborn man come over and give him some much-needed attention.<br>"No!" Erik gasped, his release close. He reached up, touched his nipple, and Charles let out what could only be described as a whine.  
>"That's it." Charles sat up in the bed, and used his powers to move Erik, literally. Erik gave a yelp as he found his feet lifted and dragged across the floor.<br>"What the- you're telekinetic now?"  
>"Only just my love, only just. I've been moving things around for some time now. Human bodies are however, much more difficult-"<br>Erik landed with a thump on the carpets.  
>"Whoops." Charles let out an extremely unmanly giggle.<br>Erik, annoyed, semi-aroused, but more annoyed, huffed, and went to Charles, reached out an arm and stroked the soft hair.  
>"Charles. You dont' have to do this."<br>"Do what?"  
>"Pretending to be normal. That everything is okay. That we can... Uh. That you have to... Uhm. Pleasure me differently," mumbled Erik, reaching out distressedly to his own hair.<br>Charles reached out to the man whose heart he had already made his own, and given his own to.  
>His questing fingers touched rough stubble, supple skin, and chapped lips.<br>"But I want to," he whispered. "I have to. I don't think my eyes-"  
>Erik tensed. "Don't. Don't say that."<br>Charles sighed. "You know that-"  
>"I don't know it, and neither do you!" Erik exploded. "Hank! Hank will think of something to cure you-"<br>He got up from the bed, and began pacing back and forth, muttering under his breatn about "genetics... Mutation... Maybe introduce new mutant DNA.."  
>"Erik. Erik!" Charles lifted his palms, fingers spread, and stopped Erik, literally.<br>Erik stood there, his mouth gaping open. "Charles l-l-let go of me," he struggled to say.  
>Charles frowned. "No. Not until you agree to come back here, to me, to my side."<br>Erik would have rolled his eyes if he could. "Okay."  
>Charles released his lover, who immediately tackled him and pinned him down by his wrists on the soft, soft bed.<br>"Bad Charles," Erik breathed out. He nipped at Charles's earlobes.  
>"Good Erik," Charles teased back.<br>Erik grinned, all shark-like. Then his face turned serious.  
>"What do you want, Charles? I will give you anything you ask," he said softly, burying his face in the crook of the warm neck below him.<br>Charles felt the lean body tremble, just once, lightly.  
>"I want you, Erik. Only you." He hugged Erik tightly, feeling damp trickles on his own cheeks, as tears escaped his sightless eyes.<br>"You've always had me."


End file.
